THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


S.    II.    JIADLF.Y'S    LATEST    PHOTO. 


S.    H      HADLEY 


OF 


WATER   STREET 


A    MIRACLE    OF    GRACE 


BY 
J.  WILBUR  CHAPMAN,  D.D. 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW  YORK  CHICAGO  TORONTO 

Fleming     H.     Revell     Company 

LONDON        AND        EDINBURGH 


Copyright,  1906,  by 
FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY 


New  York  :  158  Fifth  Avenue 
Chicago  :  80  Wabash  Avenue 
Toronto  :  25  Richmond  St.,W. 
London  :  21  Paternoster  Square 
Edinburgh  :  100  Princes  Street 


SAMUEL  HOPKINS  HADLEY,  FOR 
NINETEEN  YEARS  AND  EIGHT 
MONTHS  AND  TEN  DAYS  THE 
SUPERINTENDENT  OF  THE  OLD 
JERRY  McAULEY  WATER 
STREET  MISSION,  SITUATED  AT 
316  WATER  ST.,  NEW  YORK  CITY 


BV 


l    I 

H 


1491064 


NEW  YORK  CITY,  February  26,  1906. 
REV.  J.  WILBUR  CHAPMAN,  D.  D., 

156  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York  City. 

Dear  Dr.  Chapman — It  is  the  earnest  desire  of  Mrs.  S. 
H.  Hadley,  and  this  desire  is  heartily  seconded  by  the 
Trustees  of  Water  Street  Mission,  that  you  should  write  the 
story  of  the  life  of  our  dearly  beloved  Superintendent  and 
friend,  Rev.  S.  H.  Hadley.  Will  you  do  this?  We  feel  that 
of  all  men  you  are  the  one  whom  our  dear  friend  would 
have  suggested  for  this  work. 
Awaiting  your  reply,  I  am, 

Cordially  yours, 

WALTER  M.  SMITH. 

NEW  YORK  CITY,  February  28,   1906. 

MR.  WALTER  M.  SMITH,  115  Worth  Street,  New  York  City. 
My  dear  Mr.  Smith — I  have  received  your  kind  letter  and 
beg  to  say  that  the  request  you  make  of  me  is  indeed  a  high 
honour.  I  accept  the  work  as  a  great  trust.  I  will  do  the 
very  best  I  can  and  at  the  earliest  possible  time  I  will  see 
that  the  manuscript  is  in  the  publisher's  hands,  only  it  is  to 
be  understood  that  I  am  in  no  way  personally  to  be  profited 
by  the  sale  of  the  book,  and  so  far  as  I  am  concerned  all  the 
profit  is  to  be  devoted  to  Mrs.  S.  H.  Hadley  or  to  the 
Mission,  as  the  Trustees  may  direct. 
Cordially  yours, 

J.  WILBUR  CHAPMAN. 


INTRODUCTION 

No  man,  however  gifted,  can  define  the  manner  in 
which  the  Holy  Spirit  transforms  a  dying  drunkard 
into  a  prince  among  mission  workers. 

Samuel  Hopkins  Hadley  was  so  transformed;  and, 
though  the  process  may  elude  us,  the  fact  is  before  us. 
It  is  before  us  in  this  book  that  tells  the  story  of  his 
life. 

Mr.  Hadley,  when  he  thought  himself  to  be  dying 
of  delirium  tremens,  was  conscious  of  "  a  great  and 
mighty  presence  " ;  and  he  never  doubted  for  a  single 
moment  that  Jesus,  the  sinner's  friend,  had  come  in 
person  to  save  him.  From  that  hour  he  was  a  saved 
man ;  and  to  the  day  of  his  death  he  bore  constant  and 
faithful  witness  to  the  fact  that  Jesus,  and  Jesus  only, 
could  save  the  lost.  None  that  knew  him  ever  ques- 
tioned his  love  for  the  Lord  Jesus  or  the  sincerity 
of  his  testimony.  By  that  testimony  multitudes  of 
Christians  were  strengthened  in  faith,  and  by  it  multi- 
tudes of  helpless,  dying  sinners  were  led  to  accept  the 
grace  he  proclaimed. 

Water  Street,  the  scene  of  his  labours,  was  like  a 
land-locked  harbour,  into  which  there  was  a  constant 
drift  of  wrecked  humanity.  Here,  night  after  night, 
might  be  witnessed  miracles  as  marvellous  as  those 
wrought  by  the  Lord  Jesus  during  His  sojourn  upon 
the  earth.  There  is  perhaps  no  place  in  the  world 
where  more  soul-thrilling  stories  of  rescue  have  been 
told.  Christian  workers  from  every  part  of  the  globe 
have  been  drawn  there  to  hear  these  marvellous  testi- 

7 


8  INTRODUCTION 

monies,  to  rejoice,  to  weep,  and  to  go  forth  with  new 
confidence  in  the  power  of  God  to  save. 

Chief  among  these  witness-bearers  was  he  of  whom 
these  pages  treat.  I  have  heard  him  tell  the  story  of 
his  conversion  scores  of  times.  It  was  always  the 
same,  yet  always  new;  always  simple,  heart-searching 
and  convincing;  and  always  characterised  by  an  in- 
tense devotion  to  his  Lord  and  Saviour. 

The  sending  forth  of  the  life-story  of  this  remarkable 
man  of  God  will  be  of  untold  blessing  to  believers,  and 
will  surely  awaken  the  unconcerned  to  an  apprehen- 
sion of  God's  mercy  in  Christ. 

No  one  better  equipped  than  Dr.  Chapman  could 
have  been  chosen  to  set  forth  the  great  character  of 
which  this  volume  treats.  None  knew  Mr.  Hadley 
more  intimately ;  none  loved  him  more  devotedly ;  none 
more  deeply  sympathised  with  him  in  his  work;  none 
could  see  more  clearly  nor  estimate  more  justly  the 
salient  features  of  his  life  and  character. 

His  book  is  a  great  and  worthy  tribute  to  one 
whose  devotion  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  gave  him  a 
conspicuous  place  among  modern  mission  workers. 
It  is  a  witness  also  to  the  power  of  God  among  men. 

No  more  enduring  monument  could  be  erected  and 
in  no  other  way  could  the  influence  of  a  great  life  be 
so  effectively  perpetuated. 

In  these  pages  Mr.  Hadley  still  lives  and  still  serves 
his  Redeemer  in  whose  presence  he  now  abides  with 
joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory. 

"  God  calls  our  loved  ones,  but  we  lose  not  wholly 

What  he  has  given : 

They  live  on  earth  in  thought  and  deed  as  truly 
As  in  his  heaven." 

— FORD  C.  OTTMAN. 
STAMFORD,   CONN. 


*  PREFACE 

To  attempt  to  write  the  story  of  the  life  of  S.  H. 
Hadley  is  an  honour  and  a  privilege  which  anyone 
might  covet.  It  is  impossible  for  me  to  have  read  over 
the  story  of  his  early  life,  the  account  of  his  con- 
version, and  then  acquaint  myself  with  the  marvellous 
way  in  which  God  used  him,  without  realising  that 
the  day  of  miracles  is  not  passed. 

A  great  Apostle  of  Unbelief  once  said,  "  Show  me 
a  miracle  which  your  God  has  worked  and  I  will  be- 
lieve in  Him."  If  that  representative  Of  unbelief 
were  living  to-day  I  should  try  to  tell  him  the  story 
of  the  life  and  work  of  S.  H.  Hadley.  It  is  as  truly 
a  miracle  as  the  turning  of  water  into  wine.  He  was 
one  of  the  dearest  friends  I  ever  had  and  one  of  the 
noblest  souls  I  ever  came  in  contact  with.  He  was  as 
genuine  as  the  day  was  long,  and  when  once  he  gave 
himself  fully  to  Christ  he  never  swerved  an  inch  from 
the  straight  and  narrow  way.  He  was  the  most  like 
Christ  of  any  man  I  have  ever  met.  His  patience  with 
the  lost  and  erring  was  unexampled,  his  devotion  to 
his  work  was  an  inspiration  to  all  who  would  make 
their  lives  felt  for  the  upbuilding  of  the  cause  of 
Christ.  He  was  truly  a  great  man.  Thousands  of 
people  rise  up  to-day  to  call  him  blessed.  I  realise  how 
impossible  it  is  to  tell  the  story  of  his  life  on  the 
printed  page,  and  yet  I  enter  upon  the  task  thanking 
God  that  I  am  to  be  able  in  some  slight  way  to  send 
his  story  on  for  the  perusal  of  those  who  knew  him 

9 


10  PREFACE 

and  loved  him,  and  for  the  inspiration  of  those  who 
knew  him  only  slightly  and  possibly  not  at  all  except 
as  a  public  man,  and  the  beloved  Superintendent  of 
the  old  Water  Street  Mission. 

One  of  the  inspirations  of  Water  Street  has  always 
been  to  me,  not  simply  the  fact  that  it  was  like  a  great 
lighthouse  sending  its  cheering  rays  out  over  the 
troubled  sea  of  life  and  being  used  of  God  to  lead 
many  a  poor  lost  drunkard  to  the  harbour  of  safety, 
but  that  it  was  a  work  which  commended  itself  to 
some  of  New  York's  most  distinguished  citizens.  Men 
of  large  means,  men  of  rare  business  ability,  State 
officials,  distinguished  ministers,  all  counted  it  a  privi- 
lege to  be  numbered  among  the  trustees  of  the  Water 
Street  Mission.  When  the  funeral  services  at  the 
Mission  were  concluded,  these  busy  New  York  men 
made  their  way  upstairs  over  the  Mission  and  con- 
sidered prayerfully  the  interests  of  the  great  work,  and 
then  passed  the  following  resolutions: 

"  The  Trustees  of  the  Old  McAuley  Water  Street 
Mission  record  the  expression  of  their  profound  sor- 
row at  the  death  of  the  Rev.  Samuel  Hopkins  Hadley, 
who  for  nearly  twenty  years  was  the  beloved  and 
loving  Superintendent. 

"  He  served  the  cause  of  Christ  and  helped  the 
wretched,  the  hopeless  and  the  lost  with  his  whole 
heart  and  soul  by  day  and  night.  He  touched  the 
hearts  and  influenced  the  lives  of  all  with  whom  he 
came  in  contact,  and  was  ever  the  welcome  guest  of 
rich  and  poor  alike. 

"  Not  one  did  he  ever  pass  by  '  on  the  other  side.' 
He  was  a  conspicuously  successful  Rescue  Mission 


PREFACE  11 

Worker.  We,  the  Trustees  of  this  Mission,  bear  testi- 
mony to  his  faithful  service  and  esteem  it  a  sacred 
privilege  and  honour  to  have  been  associated  with 
him." 

The  above  resolutions  were  adopted  by  the  Board 
of  Trustees  at  a  meeting  held  on  Monday  morning, 
February  12,  1906. 

[Signed.]     JOHN  S.  HUYLER,  President, 

R.  FULTON  CUTTING,  Treasurer, 

W.  T.  WARDWELL, 

W.  M.  SMITH, 

W.  E.  LOUGEE, 

M.  LINN  BRUCE, 

W.  S.  BOWNE, 

A.  N.  RYERSON, 

M.  HARTLEY  DODGE, 

Rev.  J.  FREDERICK  TALCOTT, 

C.  F.  TIETJEN, 

B.  DE  F.  CURTIS,  Secretary. 

It  is  therefore  a  high  honour  to  write  the  story  of  a 
work,  which  not  only  has  the  seal  of  God's  approval, 
but  the  emphatic  endorsement  of  these  distinguished 
men. 

J.  WILBUR  CHAPMAN. 


Acknowledgment  is  made  to  Mr.  G.  B.  T.  Davis  for  the  use 
of  the  stenographically  reported  funeral  services  embodied  in 
chapters  sixteen  and  seventeen. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

PAGE 

I. 

"UNCLE  PHIL"    

17 

II. 

His  HOME  LIFE   

27 

III. 

Two  BROTHERS    

A1 

IV. 

His  LIFE  STORY  

1j 

55 

V. 

MEETING  JESUS     

64 

VI. 

A  DARK  PICTURE     

72 

VII. 

OUR  FIRST  MEETING  AND  OUR  LAST       .     . 

81 

VIII. 

His  LAST  DAYS    

86 

IX. 

LOVE       

QT 

X. 

WATER  STREET  MISSION    

VJ 

1  02 

XI. 

FUNERALS  AT  WATER  STREET    

in 

XII. 

AT    NORTHFIELD   AND   WlNONA     

1  *  j 

127 

XIII. 

SPECIAL  MESSAGES  

140 

XIV. 

As  AN  EDITOR      

154 

XV. 

SOME  PERSONAL  TESTIMONIES     

167 

XVI. 

THE  FUNERAL  SERVICES  AT  WATER  STREET 

MISSION 179 

XVII.  FUNERAL  SERVICES  AT  JOHN  STREET   METH- 

ODIST CHURCH 194 

XVIII.  NOTABLE  MEMORIAL  SERVICES 212 

XIX.  His  MONUMENT 228 

XX.  His  MONUMENT  (  CONTINUED) 256 

XXI.  NEWSPAPER  COMMENT 276 

13 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING  PAGE 

S.  H.  HADLEY' s  LATEST  PHOTO     .     .     .    TITLE 

PHILIP  McGuiRE,  Old  Phil. 17 

MRS.  S.  H.  HADLEY 36 

S.  H.  HADLEY  AT  NINETEEN 48 

MR.  HADLEY'S  SON,  H.  H.  HADLEY    ...     48 

COL.  H.  H.  HADLEY 52 

INTERIOR  OF  WATER  STREET  MISSION     .     .102 
MATTHEW  J.  GALLAGHER  AND   PROP.    F.  T. 

FITZGERALD 106 

S.  H.  HADLEY  SPEAKING  AT  WINONA    .     .     .     130 
S.  H.  HADLEY  AND  CHARLES  M.  ALEXANDER 

AT    NORTHFIELD 136 

TABLET  OF  S.  H.  HADLEY 192 

HARRY  E.  PRENTICE  AND  CHARLES  YATKS    .  208 

WILLIAM  H.  QUINN  AND  THOMAS  FARMER     .  236 

MR.  AND  MRS.  OTTO  YOUNGS 246 

E.  C.  MERCER  AND  JOHN  H.  WYBURN  .     .     .  260 

WILLIAM  F.  ELLIS  AND  WILLIAM  BRUCB   .     .  264 

WESLEY,  Now  HADLEY,  HALL 286 


PHILIP    McGUIRE. 


~\  "IT  T 

W 

T    T 


"UNCLE    PHIL" 

HO  is  the  aged  minister  standing  at  the 


I  addressed  these  words  one  winter 
evening  to  S.  H.  Hadley,  the  Superintendent  of  the 
Water  Street  Mission  at  316  Water  street,  New  York 
city,  as  I  came  up  on  the  platform  of  the  Mission  Hall 
and  took  my  place  by  his  side. 

Mr.  Hadley  was  occupying  the  chair  which  had 
been  especially  dedicated  to  him  for  his  use  and  I  had 
the  privilege  of  being  seated  in  an  old  arm  chair  which 
had  been  occupied  so  many  years  by  Jerry  McAuley, 
the  Founder  of  the  Mission  and  who  was  known  in  his 
day  as  the  "  Apostle  to  the  Outcast." 

"Minister?"  said  Mr.  Hadley,  rising  to  his  feet 
and  looking  about  as  if  he  feared  that  some  city  pastor 
or  some  visiting  minister  might  have  entered  the  Mis- 
sion unobserved.  "  I  do  not  see  any  minister  here  in 
the  audience."  Then  I  rose  and  standing  beside  him 
said,  "  I  mean  the  grey-haired,  benevolent-looking  old 
man  who  is  just  on  the  right  of  the  door,  who  is  now 
speaking  to  the  man  in  rags  who  has  just  entered  the 
Mission." 

When  I  said  this  Mr.  Hadley  burst  into  a  laugh. 
"  Why,  man,"  said  he,  "  that  is  not  a  minister,  that's 
old  Phil,"  and  then  he  said,  "  We  all  call  him  Uncle 
Phil,"  and  for  more  than  two  years  afterwards  I 

17 


18     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

never  knew  his  name  as  other  than  Uncle  Phil,  but  I 
came  to  know  him  later  on  and  to  love  him  devotedly. 

I  once  called  him  Mr.  McGuire  and  he  really  seemed 
offended ;  at  another  time  I  spoke  of  him  as  Mr.  Philip 
McGuire  and  he  responded  with  little  enthusiasm ;  but 
ever  afterwards  when  I  called  him  "  Uncle  Phil,"  his 
eyes  would  shine  and  his  face  would  glow,  and  when- 
ever I  entered  the  sacred  place,  Mr.  Hadley  himself 
gave  me  no  more  affectionate  greeting  than  this  won- 
derful man  who  had  been  rescued  from  so  sinful  a 
life  and  who  through  all  his  Christian  experience,  to 
strangers,  to  the  outcast,  to  old  men,  and  to  little  chil- 
dren, so  beautifully  exemplified  the  spirit  of  the  Mas- 
ter who  had  saved  him  by  His  marvellous  grace. 

Philip  McGuire  was  born  in  Ireland  in  1831.  He 
was  brought  to  New  York  city  while  a  baby  and  grew 
up  in  the  old  Fourth  Ward.  Before  he  was  twelve 
years  of  age  he  had  been  arrested  three  times  for  steal- 
ing, and  sent  as  many  times  to  the  House  of  Refuge. 
Then  he  ran  away  from  his  home  and  spent  the  next 
three  years  on  board  a  whaling  vessel  that  took  him 
around  the  globe.  He  was  a  born  thief,  and  when  he 
returned  from  his  sailing  experience  he  kept  up  his 
life  of  crime  and  in  all  served  twenty  years  in  dif- 
ferent prisons.  He  was  about  as  hopeless  a  case  as 
one  could  expect  to  find. 

During  his  second  term  in  Sing  Sing  he  had  his 
place  in  chapel  side  by  side  with  Jerry  McAuley,  the 
river  pirate,  who  later  on  started  the  Mission  which 
has  ever  since  been  known  as  the  Jerry  McAuley  or 
Water  Street  Mission.  He  sat  by  Jerry  McAuley  on 
the  day  when  the  latter,  after  listening  to  a  talk  by 
"  Awful "  Gardner,  declared  himself  converted  and 


"UNCLE    PHIL"  19 

determined  to  lead  a  new  life  ever  afterwards.  Gard- 
ner was  a  noted  character  in  New  York.  His  name 
was  Orville,  but  he  had  always  borne  the  nickname  of 
"  Awful,"  and  in  the  truest  sense  he  lived  up  to  his 
name.  When  Jerry  McAuley  left  Sing  Sing  and  Mc- 
Guire  too  had  been  discharged,  Jerry  brought  him 
down  to  the  Mission.  There  McGuire  tried  his  best 
to  follow  the  example  set  by  his  former  fellow-prisoner, 
but  with  small  success. 

One  day  when  he  was  in  charge  of  the  Mission  a 
stranger  entered  and  placed  in  his  hands  a  large  sum 
of  money,  asking  that  he  give  it  to  Jerry  when  he  re- 
turned. What  was  he  to  do?  He  was  a  born  thief. 
This  money  burned  in  his  hands.  He  was  alone  in 
the  Mission.  He  walked  excitedly  up  and  down  the 
room,  debating  in  his  mind  whether  he  should  steal 
the  money  or  not,  and  in  the  midst  of  it  all  Jerry  Mc- 
Auley entered.  Phil  rushed  towards  him  saying, 
"  Jerry,  for  God's  sake,  take  this  money,  for  if  you 
don't,  I  will  steal  it."  McAuley  took  the  money,  but 
McGuire  was  so  shaken  by  the  experience  that  the 
next  day  he  stole  about  twelve  dollars  from  the  poor 
box,  which  is  just  on  the  right  of  the  door  as  you 
enter  the  Mission.  Jerry  was  relentless  with  a  hypo- 
crite, so  he  sent  him  back  to  Sing  Sing  and  for  seven- 
teen years  afterwards  he  lived  a  life  of  crime. 

I  can  never  forget  hearing  from  Mr.  Hadley's  lips 
the  story  of  his  return  to  Water  Street.  He  said : 

"  Old  Phil  McGuire  came  into  the  Water  Street 
Mission  one  night,  so  drunk  :hat  he  could  scarcely 
walk,  an  old  thief  sixty-three  years  of  age  at  that  time, 
who  had  served  over  twenty  years  in  different  state 
prisons  for  burglary.  The  last  thing  he  did  before 


20     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

coming  into  the  Mission  was  to  take  off  his  last  shirt 
in  the  street  and  sell  it  for  ten  cents,  with  which  he 
bought  two  drinks  of  Fourth  Ward  whiskey. 

"  When  we  invited  sinners  to  come  up  to  our  mercy 
seat  he  was  so  drunk  the  aisle  was  not  wide  enough 
for  him  to  walk  in.  I  helped  the  old  bum  down  on  his 
knees  at  our  altar  service,  and  also  helped  him  to  take 
his  seat,  but  in  that  brief  time  of  perhaps  five  minutes, 
that  mysterious,  wonderful  being,  the  Holy  Spirit, 
came  into  the  heart  of  old  Phil  McGuire,  and  from 
that  moment  he  was  another  man.  He  never  took  a 
drink,  and  never  wanted  a  drink  till  the  day  of  his 
death," 

Shortly  after  his  conversion  he  gave  the  following 
testimony,  which  was  taken  down  by  one  who  was 
present: 

"  Cheer  up,  boys !  Down  here  we  don't  think  any- 
body kin  git  so  low  that  the  love  of  Jesus  can't  save 
him.  S?)',  boys,  I've  got  a  clean  shirt  on  now,  I'm 
clean  shaven,  an'  what's  more,  I  ain't  had  a  drink  fer 
years  an'  don't  want  none.  Just  the  same,  it  wasn't 
so  long  ngo  I  was  goin'  around  like  you  fellers,  drunk 
on  stale  beer  an'  anything  else  I  could  git  hold  of, 
sleepin'  in  gutters  an'  thinkin'  nothing  could  save  me. 
Before  that  I  was  even  worse.  I  was  a  thief,  a  crook. 
I  did  all  the  things  the  good  Bible  says  we  mustn't 
do.  I  done  time  in  Sing  Sing  an'  other  places,  yet 
here  I  am  to-night  a  saved  man,  hauled  right  out  of  a 
good  sight  worse  fix  than  any  of  you  boys  are  in.  Did 
I  save  myself?  Did  any  drugs  save  me?  No,  boys; 
it  was  the  love  of  Christ.  Nuthin'  else  can  do  it.  All 
the  making  up  yer  mind  ter  quit  in  the  world  don't 
help  a  bit.  Yer'll  fall  again,  sure.  Take  Jesus  in  and 


"UNCLE    PHIL"  21 

you're  saved.  He  kin  save  you,  boys,  a  sight  easier 
than  he  saved  me,  an'  he's  made  a  good  job  of  it  with 
me,  too. 

"  God  bless  yer,  boys,  an'  God  bless  Jerry  McAuley, 
he  that  started  this  Mission.  They  say  I'm  the  only 
man  alive  that  was  in  Sing  Sing  with  Jerry.  I  met 
him  there  an'  we  knew  each  other  well.  I  was  a  bad 
man,  but  a  heap  sight  worse  man  was  Jerry  McAuley. 
I  didn't  take  no  stock  in  Jerry's  conversion  in  Sing 
Sing,  but  it  was  the  beginning  of  his  great  life  for 
God. 

"  Boys,  I  came  out  of  Sing  Sing  not  long  after 
Jerry  had  been  pardoned.  I  was  hungry  and  cold  an' 
I  had  the  hankerin'  for  a  drink,  that  they'd  tried  to 
crush  out  of  me  in  prison.  I  hadn't  a  cent,  though, 
and  as  I  was  walking  up  the  Bowery  I  met  Jerry. 

"  '  What's  yer  lay,  Jerry  ?  '  I  asked. 

"  He  laid  his  hand  on  my  shoulder,  looked  me  in 
the  eyes,  an'  said,  '  Phil,  I  ain't  on  any  lay  but  the 
work  of  Jesus  Christ.  Come  around  an'  see  me,  Phil.' 

"  I  went  around  to  see  Jerry  an'  his  Mission  here, 
and  he  talked  to  me,  fed  me,  clothed  me,  and  sent  me 
away  thinking.  Boys,  the  change  didn't  come  right 
away.  It  took  time  for  me  to  see  that  nothing  but  the 
love  of  Jesus  would  save  me.  I  got  drunk  again  and 
again  after  my  meeting  with  Jerry,  but  every  time  I 
turned  up  here  on  Water  Street  I  found  Jerry's  hand 
out  to  me.  Well,  boys,  the  Lord  came  into  me  one 
night  to  stay,  an'  with  him  coming  in  every  desire  for 
the  old  life  went  out.  Oh,  boys !  if  yer  could  only 
know  it — know  what  it  means — yer'd  grab  it  so 
quick !  " 

It  is  the  custom  in  Water  Street  if  one  has  stood  a 


22     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF   WATER    STREET 

year  for  Christ  and  been  consistent  to  observe  his  an- 
niversary. The  convert  reads  the  Scripture,  offers 
prayer,  and  tells  of  the  Saviour's  keeping  power 
through  the  year  that  is  passed. 

The  following  is  in  substance  the  testimony  of  Phil 
McGuire  as  he  gave  it  on  the  night  of  the  fifth  anni- 
versary of  his  conversion,  November  23,  1897.  Com- 
pare these  two  testimonies  and  you  will  see  the 
evidence  of  his  spiritual  growth. 

After  reading  the  3Oth  Psalm,  he  said :  "  I  was  al- 
ways bad.  I  wouldn't  stay  home.  I  would  run  away. 
I  was  a  natural  thief.  Before  I  was  twelve  years  old 
I  had  been  arrested  three  times.  Then  my  father  sent 
me  to  sea  to  get  rid  of  me.  After  that  I  was  worse 
and  worse,  arrested  many  times  and  while  I  was  serv- 
ing my  second  term  in  Sing  Sing  State  Prison  I  got 
acquainted  with  Jerry  McAuley. 

"  When  I  left  prison  I  had  work  for  a  time,  then 
through  drink  I  lost  that  and  was  in  hard  luck  when, 
one  day  on  Fourth  Avenue,  I  met  Jerry  and  asked  him 
if  he  could  get  me  a  job.  He  told  me  to  come  down 
to  the  Mission.  I  didn't  know  what  a  mission  was,  but 
I  came  and  heard  the  man  I  knew  had  been  a  thief  tell 
what  Jesus  could  do  and  how  he  had  made  him  honest 
and  sober.  That  night  I  went  forward  for  prayers 
and  believe  I  was  saved,  but  later  on  I  left  the  mission 
and  after  a  time  went  back  again.  One  day  I  robbed 
the  mission  cash-collection  box  and  then  Jerry  had  me 
sent  to  prison. 

"  Seventeen  years  after  I  first  came  here  I  re- 
turned. For  days  I  was  trying  to  '  sober-up '  to  come 
here,  but  I  couldn't  get  sober.  The  appetite  was  so 
strong.  So  I  came  in  drunk,  and  staggered  to  the 


"UNCLE   PHIL"  23 

altar.  But  I  was  saved  that  night  and  the  Lord  has 
kept  me  ever  since.  The  next  day  Mr.  Hadley  gave 
me  twenty-five  cents.  Twelve  cents  of  this  I  paid  to 
get  my  shirt  out  of  pawn  and  I've  never  been  broke 
since.  I  ain't  afraid  of  officers  now.  When  I  meet  a 
policeman  now  he  bows  to  me." 

On  another  occasion  Uncle  Phil  testified :  "  When 
I  served  the  devil  I  was  never  satisfied.  I  worked  ten 
years  for  fifteen  dollars  a  week,  and  when  I  was  laid 
off  I  hadn't  money  enough  to  keep  me  one  week.  But 
since  I've  been  serving  the  Lord  I'm  always  satisfied. 
Since  I  began  to  serve  the  Lord  I  was  working  for 
'most  three  years  for  five  dollars  a  week  and  when  I 
got  laid  off  I  had  money  enough  to  keep  me  four 
months  and  some  to  spare." 

He  was  perfectly  devoted  to  his  Superintendent. 
One  summer  when  the  financial  burdens  of  the  Mis- 
sion were  heavier  than  ever  and  the  demands  upon 
the  treasury  greater  than  they  had  previously  been, 
Mr.  Hadley  decided  to  give  up  his  vacation;  he  de- 
termined that  he  would  not  even  go  to  Northfield  or 
Winona  to  attend  the  Bible  Conferences.  Uncle  Phil 
found  it  out;  one  evening  he  met  him  in  the  Mission 
and  when  no  one  was  around  he  slipped  fifty  dollars 
which  he  had  saved,  into  his  hand  and  said,  "  Here, 
take  this,  go  to  Winona,  don't  say  anything  about  it; 
God  bless  you,"  and  the  old  man  began  to  sob.  Mr. 
Hadley  came  directly  to  my  home  and  said,  "  I  don't 
think  I  was  ever  more  moved  in  my  life  than  by  the 
devotion  of  this  old  man." 

In  his  description  of  him  his  Superintendent  wrote 
as  follows: 

"  He  was  our  janitor,  lived  in  our  home,  ate  at  our 


24     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

table,  and  was  loved  by  us,  as  a  dear  member  of  our 
own  family,  faithful  as  the  sun,  honest  in  the  least 
particular  as  well  as  the  greatest,  and  I  would  trust 
him  with  uncounted  money.  Never  have  I  known 
one  penny  in  the  thousands  of  dollars  he  handled  to 
go  astray." 

His  death  was  a  remarkable  one.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Hadley  were  away  from  the  Mission  one  evening,  but 
when  the  services  were  all  over  the  Assistant  Super- 
intendent bade  dear  old  Phil  good-night  and  went 
upstairs  to  retire,  leaving  him  to  attend  to  the  wants 
of  the  needy  ones  and  close  up  the  place. 

Suddenly  one  of  the  boys  ran  hurriedly  upstairs  and 
said,  "  Old  Phil  is  dying."  The  Superintendent  has- 
tened down  into  the  Mission  Chapel  and  found  one  of 
the  boys  holding  him  on  a  seat.  They  prepared  to 
carry  him  upstairs  to  his  room  when  he  shook  his 
head.  Those  who  stood  about  him  noticed  he  was 
restless  and  with  great  effort  moving  his  hands,  at  last 
they  saw  that  he  was  trying  to  get  his  hands  into  his 
vest  pockets. 

Mr.  Hadley  had  written  a  book  giving  an  account 
of  his  experiences  in  Water  Street.  It  was  entitled, 
"  Down  in  Water  Street,"  and  was  sold  for  one  dol- 
lar. When  strangers  visiting  the  points  of  interest  in 
New  York  came  to  the  Mission,  the  old  janitor  would 
frequently  sell  a  copy  of  this  notable  book. 

His  poor  fingers  were  fast  stiffening  in  death,  but 
when  those  about  him  realised  that  he  would  not  be 
satisfied  until  he  reached  his  pockets  they  assisted  him. 
Taking  out  a  dollar  bill  from  one  pocket  and  with 
almost  superhuman  effort  a  like  sum  of  money  from 
another  pocket,  he  stretched  forth  both  his  hands  and 


"UNCLE    PHIL"  25 

said,  "  Books,"  and  was  gone.  The  last  act  of  his 
life  was  an  honest  one.  He  had  been  saved  by  the 
grace  of  God.  The  illustration  is  an  inspiration. 
What  God  could  do  for  Phil  McGuire  He  can  do  for 
lost  and  wandering  men  throughout  the  world. 

In  writing  about  his  funeral  Mr.  Hadley  said : 

"  His  funeral  was  a  notable  event.  It  occurred  on 
the  i8th  day  of  last  January.  People  came  for  miles 
to  the  funeral  of  the  ex-thief  Phil  McGuire.  Re- 
porters from  all  the  great  dailies  of  the  city  were 
present.  The  house  was  crowded,  and  I  had  to  close 
the  doors,  for  more  people  came  than  could  get  in, 
millionaires  and  bums,  merchants  and  thieves,  beauti- 
ful women  and  harlots.  Oh,  what  a  collection  you 
can  get  into  a  rescue  mission !  All  came  to  the  funeral 
of  the  old  ex-thief  and  drunkard  Phil  McGuire.  Why 
did  all  these  people  come  on  a  cold  winter  night  to 
such  an  out-of-the-way  place  as  the  Old  McAuley 
Mission  ?  "  Because  dear  old  Phil  had  bound  them 
to  him  with  ties  of  love  that  could  not  be  broken. 

Before  Mr.  Hadley  went  downstairs  to  attend  the 
funeral  service  of  his  old  friend  he  was  asked  if  he 
did  not  wish  to  write  something  concerning  him.  He 
picked  up  a  piece  of  Water  Street  stationery  and  wrote 
the  stanza  reproduced  on  the  following  page. 

If  you  will  multiply  many  times  this  story  of  the 
genuine  conversion  of  a  poor  lost  man,  you  will  have 
the  life  story  of  S.  H.  Hadley,  the  man  who  during 
his  Christian  life  possibly  led  more  drunkards  to 
Christ  than  any  other  man  of  his  generation.  His 
companions  in  rescue  work  certainly  agree  that  of  all 
the  rescue  mission  workers  of  his  day  he  was  easily 
the  greatest,  yet  he  was  as  humble  as  a  child. 


The  Old  AVcAuIcy  Water  Street  Mission 


31  B  WATER  STREET,  NEW  VORH 


TRUSTEE* 

MO.  •  HVTICII,  mutmn 

•  oc  r  eunrra*.  SICHIT.BT  »  w   BOWHC. 

«.  rviTON  CUTTING.  T«i»»um«  e  •  TICTJIH. 

n    T    WMDWCI.L.  COL.   «    f-   HCTCMUW. 

WAtTIK  •    (MITM.  «    N.  HAOtTT.  lU»tRlllTtltBt«  '! 

*.  t  teuou.  *  • 


TtUPHONL   403»JOH» 


a2« 

OfA  k 

M 


II 


U/l      tl^^7         A 


MR  HADLEY  s  AUTOGRAPH  MEMORANDUM  OF  STANZA  QUOTED 

BY  KIM  AT  THE  FUNERAL  OF  PHIL  McGUlRE. 


II 

HIS    HOME    LIFE 

THERE  are  those  who  have  felt  that  they 
have  known  S.  H.  Hadley  at  his  best  when 
they  have  seen  him  in  Water  Street,  leading 
poor  lost  drunkards,  such  as  he  had  been  in  other 
days,  to  Christ.  There  are  others  who  have  thought 
that  he  was  strongest  when  he  was  leading  a  con- 
ference of  ministers,  for  he  was  bright  and  witty  and 
always  seemed  to  say  the  right  thing  in  the  right  way. 
There  are  still  others  who  have  suggested  that  he  was 
at  his  best  when  he  was  met  in  a  social  way,  but  I  have 
no  hesitation  in  saying,  that  from  all  I  have  seen, 
heard,  and  read,  he  really  never  revealed  himself  to  a 
better  advantage  than  when  he  was  in  his  home  with 
his  loved  ones  about  him,  with  a  few  of  his  friends  of 
the  Mission  near  him,  and  best  of  all,  with  the  very 
atmosphere  of  heaven  pervading  the  entire  household. 
The  story  of  his  home  life  would  take  us  back  to  the 
days  when  he  was  a  boy  in  the  home,  where  privation 
and  suffering  sometimes  were  necessary,  but  where 
love  always  was  supreme.  The  members  of  the  Had- 
ley household  were  devoted  to  each  other,  and  their 
devotion  seemed  to  grow  with  the  passing  years. 
There  came  to  me  recently  a  letter  from  his  sister,  in 
which  she  said :  "  One  thing  noticed  by  all  who  knew 
him  in  his  childhood  days  was  his  tender  heart.  He 
could  not  see  anything  hurt  or  witness  its  suffering 

27 


28     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

without  pain.  If  a  fowl  was  to  be  prepared  for  din- 
ner, he  could  not  see  it  killed.  He  would  run  and 
hide  his  head  in  his  mother's  lap,  so  that  he  could  not 
hear  the  report  of  the  gun.  As  he  grew  older  and 
more  brave  this  tenderness  never  left  him.  His 
mother  was  his  idol,  and  never  could  he  say  an  unkind 
word  to  her.  When  he  was  about  twenty-five  years 
old  he  attended  a  revival  meeting  at  Trimble,  Athens 
County,  Ohio.  He  became  very  much  interested,  and 
with  two  of  his  companions  confessed  Christ  and  was 
baptized  in  the  waters  of  Sunday  Creek.  He  united 
with  the  church  near  my  home  where  the  town  of 
Glouster  is  now  situated.  He  became  an  active 
member  of  the  meeting  and  his  presence  in  prayer  and 
song  was  a  blessing  to  all.  But  one  day  unexpectedly 
and  in  an  angry  moment  he  swore.  Then  he  thought 
that  all  was  over  and  he  could  be  a  Christian  no 
longer,  so  he  gave  it  all  up.  People  wondered  what 
had  caused  such  a  sudden  change  in  his  life  and  he 
himself  did  not  tell  it  for  years.  This  is  one  reason 
I  am  sure,  why  he  could  not  give  up  anyone  who  ever 
made  a  start  in  the  Christian  life.  He  was  a  darling 
brother,  and  the  best  example  of  Christ  I  have  ever 
known." 

Not  a  very  great  while  ago  there  came  into  my 
possession  a  copy  of  Lucy  Hadley's  journal.  She  was 
a  sister  of  S.  H.  Hadley.  She  was  born  August  23, 
1836,  and  died  November  3,  1879.  What  she  has 
written  has  to  do  with  the  real  home  life  of  S.  H. 
Hadley. 

"  February   12,   1853. 

"  My  father  has  lately  joined  the  Presbyterian 
church,  and  on  the  2Oth  of  December,  1852,  for  the 


HIS    HOME    LIFE  29 

first  time  in  his  life  erected  the  family  altar  in  his  own 
house ;  and  commenced  asking  a  blessing  at  the  table. 
It  was  a  melting  time  among  us  that  Monday  morning. 
I  know  I  shall  never  forget  it.  We  sang  before 
prayers  this  verse: 

' '  Let  not  despair  as   fell  revenge 
Be  to  my  bosom  known 
But  give  me  tears  for  others  woes 
And  patience  for  my  own/ 

"  We  sing  during  family  worship  every  morn  and 
eve,  and  many  sweet  sessions  have  we  had  together. 
Mother  always  prayed  with  us  children  every  day  until 
father  erected  the  family  altar.  Oh,  I  am  not  half 
thankful  enough  for  this  great  blessing." 

"  February   27,    1853. 

"  To-day  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  my  dear 
brother  Henry  unite  with  the  Methodist  church  at 
Young's  Chapel." 

"January   I,    1854. 

"  Last  Sabbath  was  Christmas.  We  had  a  very 
good  meeting  and  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  my 
youngest  brother  Hopkins  unite  with  the  church  at 
Young's  Chapel.  May  the  Lord  enable  him  to  be 
faithful." 

"January  16,  1854. 

"  My  longing  desire  of  soul  is  that  my  little  brothers 
should  become  Christians.  But  the  Lord  will  make 
them  Christians.  I  feel  it;  I  know  it.  I  feel  as  sure 
of  it  now  as  if  I  saw  it  before  my  eyes,  for  the  Lord 


30     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

has  promised  and  He  will  perform.    Glory  be  to  God 
for  this  blessed  assurance.     My  soul  is  full  of  love." 


"  February  25,  1854. 

"  We  have  just  closed  a  protracted  meeting  at 
Young's  Chapel  of  nearly  a  week's  duration.  It  has 
been  a  very  precious  time  to  many  souls.  The  mem- 
bers have  been  greatly  roused  up.  There  have  been 
two  conversions  and  five  accessions  to  the  church.  It 
is  the  first  time  I  ever  saw  a  soul  converted  in  our 
meeting  house.  But  I  have  not  yet  obtained  the  long- 
ing desire  of  my  heart.  I  have  not  yet  seen  my  dear 
little  brothers  converted.  Oh,  why  is  it?" 

"  March  5,  1854. 

"  I  have  great  reason  to  serve  and  love  the  Lord 
for  what  He  has  done  for  me.  This  morning  during 
family  prayer  my  dear  little  brother  Hopkins  obtained 
the  witness  that  he  is  a  Christian.  He  felt  his  sins 
forgiven,  and  was  enabled  to  rejoice  in  the  Lord.  Oh, 
how  should  my  soul  swell  with  gratitude  and  love  to 
God,  when  I  see  how  He  is  answering  my  prayers ! " 

"March  11,  1855. 

(When  this  was  written  Lucy  Hadley  was  at  "  Put- 
nam Female  Seminary,"  Zanesville,  O.,  where  she 
spent  about  two  years,  the  only  schooling  she  had  ex- 
cept the  good  instruction  given  her  by  her  brother.) 

"  Little  did  I  know  when  I  last  wrote  how  soon  my 
faith  would  be  tried.  I  received  a  letter  from  mother 
last  week  telling  me  that  our  entire  dwelling  and 
nearly  all  it  contained,  nearly  all  our  provisions,  the 


HIS    HOME    LIFE  31 

barn,  and  feed  for  the  cattle,  had  been  burned  to 
ashes.  Mother  is  bearing  it  with  true  Christian  forti- 
tude. Oh,  what  a  blessing  to  have  such  a  mother! 
Our  friends  have  been  gathering  together  some  clothes 
to  send  home.  I  am  going  to  send  all  that  I  can  spare 
of  mine." 

The  one  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  this  journal 
adds  this  word : 

"  I  remember  my  mother  telling  me  after  this  the 
Hadley  family  moved  into  an  old  log  house  on  the 
farm.  It  had  been  used  as  a  sheep  pen  for  a  while. 
It  was  fixed  up,  and  when  my  father  saw  it  a  few 
years  later  there  was  the  one  living  room  of  log  down- 
stairs, two  unfinished  rooms  upstairs,  a  shed  kitchen, 
and  a  frame  room,  sometimes  used  as  a  parlour,  was 
built  on.  This  was  the  Hadley  home  until  the  parents 
died  and  the  family  scattered — a  great  change  from 
the  pretty  country  home  near  Malta." 

"June  22,  1856. 

"  My  dear  and  only  sister  Hannah  was  with  me  at 
school  last  winter.  With  pleasure  I  watched  her  im- 
provement, and  rejoiced  that  she  was  loved  by  others ; 
for  I  would  rather  she  would  be  loved  than  to  be 
loved  myself.  Her  health  was  poor  so  that  she  could 
not  study  very  hard,  but  she  improved  very  much  in 
gentleness,  firmness  and  loveliness  of  character." 

"  January,    1856. 
"  Oh,  I  have  one  of  the  best  of  mothers  and  such  a 


32     S.    H.    HADLEY    OP    WATER    STREET 

kind  good  father,  too.  He  is  such  a  good  nurse  and 
was  so  faithful  to  me  during  my  sickness.  Besides, 
I  have  such  a  lovely  sister  and  two  dear  brothers." 

"  December  20,  1857. 

"  About  six  weeks  ago  my  youngest  brother  Hop- 
kins cut  his  right  knee  very  badly  with  an  axe.  For 
about  five  weeks  he  has  lain  in  one  position  without 
being  able  to  move  but  very  little;  and  has  suffered 
beyond  description.  I  was  only  with  him  Thanks- 
giving Day.  He  has  been  dangerously  ill  some  of 
the  time,  but  we  hope  he  is  better  now.  We  are  not 
sure  that  Hopkins  is  a  Christian  and  our  souls  have 
been  burdened  with  this.  Oh,  that  God  would  in  mercy 
hear  and  answer  our  prayers.  I  cannot  but  believe 
He  will.  I  am  going  home  next  Thursday  and  I  ex- 
pect to  see  my  dear  and  only  sister  Hannah  married 
before  I  return.  I  am  to  be  her  bridesmaid." 

When  Uncle  Hopkins  cut  his  knee  a  company  of 
young  people  were  on  their  way  to  the  wedding  of 
Amanda  Fowler  and  Joel  Allen  (still  living  in  Glous- 
ter,  O.,  old  and  broken). 

Other  young  people,  not  invited,  for  fun  put 
branches  of  trees  across  the  road  to  hinder  the  wed- 
ding party.  Uncle  Hopkins,  still  quite  young,  had 
no  girl  with  him,  so  he  had  to  lift  the  branches  out  of 
the  way.  They  came  to  one  big  log  which  he  could 
not  lift,  and  in  trying  to  chop  it  away,  the  axe  slipped 
and  his  knee  was  cut,  even  the  bone  itself  being  cut. 
It  was  sewed  up  by  the  country  physician,  and  he  was 
allowed  to  hobble  around  on  it  for  a  day  or  so,  then 
when  the  stitches  pulled  out,  and  it  was  greatly  in- 
flamed, the  doctor  ordered  him  to  bed.  Toward  the 


HIS    HOME    LIFE  33 

last  they  called  Dr.  Hufford,  whom  he  had  faith  in 
and  wanted.  He  was  a  wicked  man  and  grandparents 
did  not  want  him  on  that  account,  but  a  well-read  phy- 
sician. He  lay  with  his  knee  bent  so  it  could  never 
be  straightened. 

"  May  27,  1860. 

"  From  my  earliest  religious  life,  I  have  felt  this 
deep  love  for  ministers  and  missionaries,  and  oh,  the 
yearning  of  my  soul  is  to  spend  my  whole  life  in  the 
cause  of  the  Lord." 

After  a  summer's  vacation  at  home  she  writes: 

"  It  was  so  hard  for  me  to  leave  the  dear  ones  at 
home.  I  know  I  am  missed  now  more  than  I  ever 
was.  Brother  Henry  and  I  became  more  truly  ac- 
quainted with  each  other,  and  we  had  each  other's 
confidence  more  fully  than  ever  before.  He  misses 
me  so  much,  and  mother,  dear  mother,  misses  me  more 
than  all  the  rest.  She  leaned  her  head  on  my  breast 
and  wept  like  a  child  when  we  parted.  I  felt  as  though 
I  could  never  leave  her;  but  go,  I  must,  and  with  a 
great  effort  I  tore  myself  away  from  those  dear  ones. 
Oh,  they  all  miss  me.  Father,  oh,  he  seemed  to  love 
me  more  this  time  than  he  ever  had,  and  he  was  al- 
ways such  a  kind  father.  And  Hopkins  was  the  same 
dear  brother." 

"  August  23,   1862. 

"  My  brother  Henry  felt  it  his  duty  to  go  (to  war), 
and  he  is  now  in  Circleville.  The  house  seemed  so 
lonesome,  just  as  though  there  had  been  a  funeral 
in  it." 


34.     S.    H.    HADLEY   OF   WATER    STREET 

"  February  I,  1863. 

"  I  have  been  appointed  superintendent  of  the  Sab- 
bath school  here  (Young's  Chapel).  I  feel  the  re- 
sponsibility to  be  great,  but  God  gives  me  strength 
to  bear  the  burden.  Oh,  that  Hopkins  were  a  better 
boy.  He  is  the  greatest  sorrow  I  have.  Lord,  save 
him." 

"Feby.  19,  1863. 

"  On  the  l/th  of  February  Brother  Henry  camt 
home  from  the  army.  He  was  the  most  pitiable  look- 
ing object  I  ever  saw,  reduced  by  disease  to  a  mere 
skeleton,  with  an  abscess  on  his  right  ankle,  not  able  to 
walk  one  step,  with  scarce  strength  enough  to  keep 
life  in  his  body." 

(Henry's  father  helped  to  nurse  him,  but  he  took 
sick  with  a  severe  attack  of  lung  fever,  from  which 
he  died  March  9,  1863,  a  little  over  six  months  after 
the  death  of  his  wife.  Harry  and  Hopkins  were  both 
sick;  but  Hopkins  was  able  to  stand  with  his  sisters 
beside  his  bed  when  he  died.  William  Hadley  and 
Jane  Riddell  Hadley  are  buried  in  Young's  Chapel 
graveyard.  Neither  of  the  boys,  Henry  or  Hopkins, 
could  ever  go  to  the  cemetery  after  their  father's 
funeral.  Hopkins  was  very  sick  the  night  after  the 
funeral  and  for  several  weeks  with  typhoid  lung 
fever.)  "  We  feared  for  his  life;  but  God  spared  him 
to  us." 

When  S.  H.  Hadley  went  to  live  with  his  brother, 
the  Colonel,  although  he  was  by  no  means  the  master 
of  himself  as  regards  his  appetite  for  strong  drink, 
yet  he  was  the  same  loving  and  lovable  brother.  I 
am  told  they  had  a  common  purse  in  the  family — 


HIS    HOME    LIFE  85 

that  whichever  brother  was  at  home  felt  himself,  so 
long  as  he  had  a  penny,  under  obligation  to  pay  the 
bills  of  the  other.  Mrs.  Colonel  Hadley,  in  writing 
to  me  since  his  death,  said :  "  He  was  the  dearest 
brother  that  ever  lived,  always  thoughtful  of  us, 
always  bright  and  cheery ;  even  in  the  dark  days  of 
his  awful  sin  he  could  not  but  be  loving  and  kind 
to  us.  When  he  was  converted,  he  just  as  naturally 
turned  to  the  home  of  his  brother,  as  the  needle  turns 
to  the  pole  star.  It  was  from  his  brother's  window 
that  he  looked  forth  the  first  day  of  his  Christian  life 
when  he  said :  '  The  birds  seem  to  sing  differently, 
the  foliage  is  different,  the  street  cars  seem  to  me  like 
chariots,  and  men  and  women  as  they  pass  along  the 
streets  seem  to  have  their  voices  keyed  to  sweet 
music.' " 

He  has  ever  counted  it  a  pleasure  and  a  privilege 
to  turn  away  from  his  busy  New  York  life  and  go 
back  again  to  his  old  Ohio  home,  where  he  might  have 
fellowship  with  his  sisters.  As  a  rule,  for  the  past 
ten  years,  he  has  gone  each  summer  from  my  own 
home  to  Ohio,  and  when  the  day  of  his  departure  for 
his  visit  with  his  sisters  would  come,  he  would  be  as 
eager  as  a  child  to  see  them.  But  S.  H.  Hadley  was 
really  at  his  best  in  his  own  home,  so  dear  to  him,  in 
rooms  over  the  old  Mission  at  316  Water  Street.  He 
had  tried  living  elsewhere,  and  with  his  great  ancestry 
back  of  him,  and  enjoying  beautiful  things  as  he  did, 
it  would  have  been  perfectly  natural  for  him  to  have 
delighted  in  a  home  in  a  different  part  of  the  city,  but 
the  experiment  was  never  a  success,  and  he  turned 
back  again  to  the  old  Mission.  He  used  to  say  to  his 
friends :  "  I  wish  you  would  come  and  see  me  in  my 


36     S.    H.    HADLEY   OF   WATER    STREET 

home — it's  perfectly  beautiful  " — and  it  was.  The 
carpets  were  not  so  fine,  the  pictures,  to  one  who  did 
not  know  their  history,  were  exceedingly  common,  the 
furnishings  plain  in  the  extreme,  but  as  you  mounted 
the  stairs  to  his  room,  every  step  seemed  to  bring  you 
nearer  heaven,  and  as  you  entered  the  living-room  it 
seemed  always  as  if  you  were  stepping  into  the  pres- 
ence of  God,  while  to  go  into  his  little  workroom,  or 
"office,"  as  he  called  it,  was  to  those  who  knew  him 
and  loved  him  like  entering  into  the  sacred  precincts 
of  the  Holy  of  Holies.  S.  H.  Hadley  was  a  man  of 
God,  he  walked  and  talked  with  God,  and  no  one  ever 
came  into  touch  with  his  great  life  who  did  not 
come  away  with  a  benediction.  His  home  was  as  free 
as  the  air  to  all  his  friends.  "  There  is  always  a  place 
for  you  at  my  table,"  he  would  say,  "  and  if  you  will 
let  me  know  when  you  are  coming,  I  will  put  your 
name  in  the  pot,  but  whether  you  send  me  word  or 
not,  just  come,  and  you  will  make  me  very  happy." 
His  clever  and  devoted  wife  presided  over  his  table 
like  a  queen.  It  would  have  been  perfectly  natural 
for  her  to  have  felt  many  times  that  in  giving  up  her 
noble  husband  to  a  work  which  was  so  full  of  trial 
at  times  and  in  constant  association  with  those  who 
had  come  to  the  end  of  all  their  resources,  she  was 
making  more  of  a  sacrifice  than  the  world  had  a  right 
to  expect  of  her,  but  she  did  not  complain.  Many 
a  poor  lost  man  found  his  way  to  Christ  under  her 
guidance  and  many  a  convert  of  the  Water  Street 
Mission  declares  that  it  was  Mrs.  Hadley 's  gentle 
words  of  counsel  that  turned  his  thoughts  back  again 
to  his  mother  and  was  the  means  of  his  conversion. 
This  chapter  would  not  be  complete  without  a  mes- 


MRS.    S.    H.    HADLEY. 


HIS    HOME    LIFE  37 

sage  from  Mrs.  Hadley  herself.  At  my  earnest  solici- 
tation she  has  written  as  follows : 

"  In  the  twenty-four  years  of  my  husband's  con- 
version I  have  had  some  experiences  myself.  I  was 
in  Washington  at  the  time  of  his  conversion.  Had 
gone  to  Baltimore  for  the  wedding  of  a  favourite  niece 
of  mine.  And  from  there  to  Washington  to  see  my 
precious  mother,  then  over  eighty  years  old. 

"  Well,  one  morning,  I  think  it  was  Monday,  I  re- 
ceived a  letter  telling  me  the  joyful  news  that  he  had 
found  the  Saviour.  I  was  stopping  with  a  very  dear 
friend  at  the  time.  I  went  into  the  parlour  and  closed 
the  door  and  read  my  letter.  I  was  surprised,  I 
walked  the  floor,  I  shouted,  I  cried,  I  prayed,  I 
laughed,  and  dear  Aunt  Lue  came  down  and  said, 
'  What  is  the  matter  with  my  girlie.'  I  exclaimed, 
'  Oh,  Aunt  Lue,  Mr.  Hadley  says  he  is  converted,  do 
you  believe  it  ? '  She  had  her  arms  around  me  and 
we  looked  each  other  in  the  eyes.  She  said,  '  He  says 
so,  does  he  not,  Mittie  ? '  I  said,  '  Yes.'  '  Well,  so  do 
I,'  she  said.  I  loved  her  before,  but  I  think  I  loved 
her  ten  times  as  much  afterwards.  True  friend.  Well, 
I  do  not  think  there  was  ever  a  man  watched  so  closely 
as  he  was.  He  made  a  good  confession  from  the 
start. 

"  I  found  after  my  return  to  New  York  in  going  to 
the  Mission  every  night,  I  became  deeply  interested 
in  the  work.  It  was  an  entirely  new  thing  to  me. 
Though  I  had  been  a  Christian  for  years,  we  knew 
nothing  at  all  about  Mission  work  as  it  was  done  in  a 
Rescue  Mission,  where  all  sorts,  all  classes,  and  all 
conditions  came  in.  It  was  a  revelation  to  me,  and 
then  Jerry  was  a  revelation.  I  can  see  him  before  my 


38     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

mind's  eye  at  this  time  raising  his  hand  and  saying, 
'  Who  will  come  to  Christ  to-night  ? '  Well,  my  hus- 
band was  not  a  lazy  Christian,  but  a  working  one. 
How  I  praise  God  for  that;  he  always  had  a  burden 
for  souls.  How  well  I  remember  when  we  went  to 
housekeeping  in  three  rooms,  he  would  bring  poor 
fellows  to  our  humble  home  and  take  out  his  last 
shirt,  socks,  and  collar  and  tie,  and  dress  the  man  up 
and  take  him  to  the  Home  in  Eighty-sixth  Street  for 
intemperate  men  and  I  would  gather  up  the  debris  on 
a  shovel  and  throw  it  into  the  fire.  How  many  times 
I  have  done  that  I  could  not  tell ;  it  seemed  to  me  he 
was  all  the  time  investing  in  shirts,  collars,  and  ties, 
but  it  was  all  right;  and  then  his  first  lodging  house. 
We  had  four  rooms  there,  and  we  wanted  a  room 
for  the  Lord.  We  had  one  good  chamber  and  I  gave 
it  up  for  anyone  he  would  bring  in  with  delirium  tre- 
mens.  I  put  my  bed  in  my  sitting-room  and  we  would 
have  our  meals  there  and  entertain  all  our,  or  his,  com- 
pany there.  We  had  a  very  humble  home,  but  a  very 
happy  home,  because  God  was  there  and  Love  was 
there.  I  could  not  tell  how  many  cases  he  nursed 
through  the  dreadful  sickness,  but  some  were  nursed 
through  three  times,  and  then,  when  they  were  well, 
he  would  bring  them  in  to  my  table,  that  would  be  the 
only  time  I  would  see  them.  The  door  had  been  taken 
off  and  it  had  been  boarded  up,  so  there  came  a  time 
when  I  thought  I  might  have  the  room.  Well,  I  asked 
the  Lord  about  it ;  told  him  if  there  were  not  any  more 
cases  in  so  many  weeks  I  would  take  it  as  an  answer 
to  prayer  I  was  to  have  the  room.  I  told  Mr.  Hadley 
some  day  he  would  come  home  and  find  the  door  open ; 
so  the  time  passed  and  no  one  came,  and  one  day  I 


HIS    HOME    LIFE  39 

opened  the  door,  and  we  had  the  room  papered  and 
painted  and  moved  our  bed  into  the  room.  My  hus- 
band told  me  if  I  would  live  there  until  the  lease  ex- 
pired he  would  furnish  me  a  flat  uptown,  so  before 
it  did  he  sold  the  place  out,  and  we  went  uptown  to  live 
in  Seventy-sixth  Street.  We  had  a  very  comfortable 
home  and  from  there,  after  we  had  been  there  three 
months,  we  had  a  call  to  Water  Street  Mission.  He 
came  home  one  day  about  noon  and  said,  '  Lizzie, 
what  do  you  think  about  going  down  to  Water 
Street?  '  I  said,  '  What,  to  the  service  to-night?  '  He 
said,  "  No,  I  have  a  call  to  go  to  Water  Street,  to  take 
charge.  What  do  you  think  about  it  ?  '  I  thought 
over  it  a  while  and  said,  '  Dear,  if  you  have  a  call  to 
Water  Street,  it  will  be  the  call  of  your  life.'  My 
Bible  was  lying  on  the  table  by  me,  and  I  said,  '  Let 
us  see  what  the  Word  says.'  I  opened  it  to  the  58th 
Chapter  of  Isaiah,  and  my  eyes  rested  on  the  seventh 
verse.  '  Is  it  not  to  deal  thy  bread  to  the  hungry,  and 
that  thou  bring  the  poor  that  are  cast  out  to  thy  house  ? 
When  thou  seest  the  naked  that  thou  cover  him ;  and 
that  thou  hide  not  thyself  from  thy  own  flesh  ?  '  I 
said,  '  Dear,  there  is  thy  commission.'  Then  we  got 
down  on  our  knees  and  told  the  Lord  about  it,  and  said, 
'  If  we  were  to  go,  all  right ;  and  if  not  it  was  all  right 
also.'  So  on  the  last  Sabbath  in  May,  1886,  we  went 
and  he  held  his  first  service  and  James  Edwards  came 
forward.  lie  was  a  terrible  looking  object,  hut  Mrs. 
Stephen  Merritt  knelt  on  one  side  of  him,  and  I  on  the 
other.  We  put  in  his  mouth  the  prayer,  '  Lord,  be 
merciful  to  me  a  sinner,  for  Jesus'  sake.  Amen.'  He 
prayed  that  prayer  and  has  been  a  sober  man  ever 
since.  Twenty  years  of  soul-saving  agony  for  souls, 


40     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

what  an  experience,  and  what  a  work!  all  classes,  all 
conditions,  have  knelt  at  those  benches,  and  what 
trophies  for  the  Master!  how  many  have  gone  home 
to  be  forever  with  the  Lord ;  some  have  failed — we  all 
come  short  sometimes — for  after  we  have  done  all,  we 
still  are  unprofitable  servants.  For  twenty  years  we 
gave  our  lives,  our  time,  ourselves,  our  all  for  souls; 
sometimes,  I  thought  someone  else  ought  to  take  a 
turn  at  it,  but  I  was  asked  if  I  thought  the  Lord  had 
sent  us  there.  I  said,  '  Yes,  I  am  sure  He  did.'  '  Well, 
do  you  think  He  is  sending  you  away  ?  Pray  over  it.' 
And  I  was  sure  He  was  not,  only  the  flesh  was  getting 
weary,  and  I  would  take  up  my  staff  and  go  forward 
and  press  into  the  thickest  of  the  fight  until  my  health 
broke  down.  But  I  never  lost  my  interest  in  my  boys, 
dear  fellows.  I  never  see  a  poor  lost  drunkard  but 
my  heart  goes  out  to  God  in  prayer  for  him.  There 
are  some  cases  I  would  like  to  tell  about,  some  of  the 
boys  that  worked  for  Mr.  Hadley  in  his  house  at  206 
Bowery.  It  was,  he  said,  one  of  the  worst  houses  when 
he  bought  it,  a  terrible  place,  so  much  so  that  he 
bought  himself  a  revolver,  there  were  such  desperate 
men.  So  there  came  a  time  when  he  said  to  me,  '  Liz- 
zie, I  do  not  think  I  am  a  very  good  Christian.'  '  Why 
not?'  said  I.  'Well,  here  I  am  a  Christian  and  am 
carrying  a  revolver.  What  is  my  religion  worth  ? ' 
He  laid  it  down  on  the  table  and  said,  '  I  will  never 
carry  one  again.'  '  Well,'  I  said,  '  the  Lord  is  mighty 
to  deliver  you  ' — and  he  gave  it  up  instantly. 

1 '  Does  it  pay  ?  '  I  think  so,  for  after  twenty  years' 
work,  broken  down  in  health,  lame,  and  growing  old,  I 
can  say  it  pays,  and  if  I  had  my  life  to  go  over  again 
I  would  try  to  do  better  work.  I  could  not  give  any 


HIS    HOME    LIFE  41 

more  for  I  gave  my  all.  My  precious  husband,  all 
health,  strength,  everything.  Sometimes  I  would  be 
asked  how  I  could  bear  the  sacrifice,  but  I  tell  you 
truly,  I  never  thought  I  had  made  any.  I  was  simply 
doing  what  I  could  in  His  name,  after  calling  me.  I 
know  it  was  not  of  our  seeking,  for  until  my  husband 
was  converted  I  did  not  know  what  a  mission  was, 
and  to  us  it  was  simply  marvellous  how  we  were  led. 
Truly,  in  paths  we  knew  not  of  and  in  ways  that  were 
marvellous,  so  I  praise  the  name  of  the  Lord  forever 
and  forever. 

"  I  never  thought  my  precious  husband  would  be 
taken,  and  I  left,  but  it  is  another  of  the  ways  we 
know  not  of,  and  I  just  want  to  say  from  my  inmost 
soul,  '  not  my  will,  but  Thine  be  done,  O  Lord.' ): 

There  was  a  fitting  climax  to  his  home  life.  When 
they  carried  his  precious  body  from  the  undertaker's 
rooms  that  he  might  lie  in  state  in  his  living-room 
above  the  Mission,  those  who  knew  him  most  inti- 
mately came  to  look  upon  him  and  bathe  his  upturned 
face  with  their  tears  and  appreciation.  On  Sunday 
evening,  as  his  loved  ones  were  keeping  watch  over 
the  sacred  remains,  there  came  a  stranger  up  the  stairs, 
a  man  who  had  known  better  days.  Under  the  in- 
struction of  S.  H.  Hadley,  at  another  time,  he  had 
caught  a  glimpse  of  the  Saviour,  but  the  tide  of  an 
awful  temptation  swept  him  from  his  feet,  and  he 
drifted  out  into  the  darkness  of  despair.  But  when 
he  heard  that  S.  H.  Hadley  was  dead,  he  was  sobered, 
and  he  came  to  the  Mission  and  asked  permission  to 
go  up  and  look  upon  his  precious  face.  Staggering 
into  the  room  because  of  his  weakness  and  his  grief, 
he  threw  himself  upon  the  coffin  and  sobbed  out:  "  S. 


42     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

H.  Hadley,  when  he  was  living,  gave  me  a  vision  of 
Jesus,  and  now  that  he  is  dead,  I  want  to  see  Him  once 
more." 

To  me  his  life  was  one  magnificent  picture.  There 
were  dark  clouds  in  it,  but  these  clouds  only  served  to 
make  the  brighter  that  part  of  his  life  that  was  so 
filled  with  Jesus.  I  have  no  hesitation  at  all  in  saying 
what  I  many  times  in  this  book  repeat — that  I  con- 
sider him  in  any  walk  of  his  life  the  most  Christlike 
man  I  have  ever  known. 


TWO    BROTHERS 

* 

IT  would  be  impossible  to  write  the  story  of  the 
life  of  Samuel  Hopkins  Hadley  and  not  take 
into  account  the  almost  equally  interesting  story 
of  his  beloved  brother,  Colonel  H.  H.  Hadley,  who,  in 
his  day,  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable  rescue  mis- 
sion workers  in  the  world,  for  many  years  supported 
by  the  St.  Bartholomew  Church,  New  York  City,  and 
the  superintendent  of  the  St.  Bartholomew  Mission, 
the  organizer  of  the  Church  Army  in  America,  and 
one  who  has  the  distinction  of  having  founded  more 
Rescue  Missions  than  any  other  man  in  the  world. 
These  two  brothers  were  passionately  devoted  to  each 
other,  and  their  life-story  is  so  intertwined  that  the 
history  of  either  would  be  incomplete  without  refer- 
ence to  the  other. 

William  Hadley  and  his  bride  began  their  wedded 
life  at  Malta,  Morgan  County,  Ohio,  four  miles  above 
McConnellsville.  There,  'mid  their  struggles  to  secure 
a  living  from  Mr.  Hadley 's  salt  wells  and  the  river- 
bottom  farm,  six  children  were  born.  Number  five 
was  a  long,  gaunt,  bony,  yellow-skinned,  black-haired, 
dark-eyed  boy.  When  he  was  three  days  old,  his 
father,  happening  to  come  into  the  room,  found  the 
mother  crying  as  if  her  poor  heart  would  break. 

"  Mother,  what  is  the  trouble  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he's  so  homely !  "  she  sobbed. 
43 


44     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

"  Homely  ?  Mercy,  no  !  Why,  he'll  be  a  president 
some  day ;  "  and  the  father  named  him  Henry  Harrison 
Hadley. 

When  number  six  was  born,  the  mother  named  him 
after  her  own  dear  brother,  Samuel  Hopkins,  who  was 
one  of  die  early  graduates  of  Yale  College. 

The  sixth  child  born  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  William  Had- 
ley is  the  subject  of  this  sketch  and  beyond  all  ques- 
tion one  of  the  most  remarkable  men  of  his  generation. 

The  early  home  of  the  Hadleys  was  a  home  of  pri- 
vation. These  refined,  educated  New  England  people 
endured  hardships  indeed  in  the  training  of  their  chil- 
dren. There  was  not  a  cabin  in  sight  of  their  home, 
nor  a  public  road  within  sixteen  miles.  They  lived 
in  a  great  four-roomed  house  which  was  the  pride 
of  the  township.  A  patch  of  ground  was  cleared  about 
the  house;  all  of  the  Hadley  children  helped  to  pick 
the  brush  and  clear  the  land.  Gradually  the  country 
was  settled,  log  schoolhouses  were  built,  and  the  edu- 
cational work  of  the  State  was  started.  While  the 
children  of  the  average  frontiersman  could  scarcely  be 
spared  from  the  farm,  Harry  and  Hopp  (as  S.  H. 
Hadley  was  called  in  his  boyhood  days)  were  sent 
four  months  in  each  year  to  the  log  schoolhouse.  These 
boys  never  knew  what  it  was  to  have  a  holiday.  When 
they  were  not  busy  they  were  taught  by  their  mother, 
whose  constant  fear  seemed  to  be  that  her  boys  would 
grow  up  in  ignorance  or  adopt  the  ways  of  the  rough 
people  around  them  with  whom  they  were  compelled 
to  mingle.  Their  boyhood  days  were  spent  in  the 
purest  home  imaginable. 

Not  a  day  was  their  education  neglected  by  their 
parents.  At  night  they  would  lie  on  the  rough  punch- 


TWO    BROTHERS  45 

eon  floor,  in  front  of  a  great  wood-stove  and  study 
their  lessons.  The  Hadleys  were  too  poor  to  burn 
candles  unless  absolutely  necessary.  The  boys  would 
tear  off  hickory  splinters  from  the  wood  that  lay  near 
the  stove,  and  running  them  under  the  stove-door, 
would  light  them  and  use  them  as  a  sort  of  torch 
by  the  glimmer  of  which  they  would  catch  a  sentence 
from  their  books,  then  memorise  it  in  the  dark.  By 
the  light  of  another  splinter  they  would  read  a  new 
sentence  or  review  the  old  one. 

The  two  brothers  were  never  separated ;  they 
worked,  planned,  studied,  and  slept  together.  They 
grew  to  be  young  giants,  and  woe  betide  the  crowd 
that  would  pick  a  fuss  with  one  of  the  Hadley  boys ! 
Harry  once  had  a  fight  at  recess  at  school  with  Sam 
Hook,  over  Vine  Hazleton.  Both  boys  were  about 
fifteen  and  both  sought  the  smiles  of  sweet  Levina. 
They  fought  it  out  in  a  "  ring  "  composed  of  all  the 
scholars.  They  were  parted  finally,  but  Sam  had  a 
badly  bitten  finger,  and  Harry  religiously  bit  a  red 
onion  every  morning  before  breakfast,  all  unbeknown 
to  his  mother,  so  that  Sam's  finger  would  not  heal — 
and  it  didn't  until  Harry  quit  biting  the  onion. 

When  Lincoln  was  elected  President  and  Fort 
Sumter  had  been  fired  upon,  the  President  of  the 
United  States  called  for  75,000  volunteers.  When  the 
second  call  was  made  for  men  to  serve  for  three  years, 
or  during  the  war,  Harry  Harrison  Hadley  was  one 
of  the  first  to  enlist.  On  the  morning  of  the  awful 
day  that  Harry  was  to  leave  home  for  the  first  time,  he 
and  his  brother,  chum  and  playmate,  went  alone  into 
the  "  spare  room."  They  both  broke  down  and  lay 
upon  the  floor,  clasped  in  each  other's  arms.  They 


46     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

were  strong  young  men,  but  they  sobbed  bitterly.  This 
was  the  first  parting  between  Henry  and  Hopkins. 
Oh,  such  a  parting!  Of  course  Hopp  would  have 
gone  along  but  for  his  lame,  stiff  knee.  Otherwise  he 
was  a  Hercules  in  strength,  and  though  shorter  than 
his  brother,  his  arms  were  an  inch  longer,  and  his 
sledge-like  fists  had  often  split  an  inch  poplar  board. 

So  devoted  were  these  brothers  that  S.  H.  Hadley 
never  could  stay  away  from  the  young  soldier.  Several 
times  he  visited  him  during  the  service.  Once  at 
Paducah,  Kentucky.  Here  he  contracted  smallpox, 
and  Henry,  knowing  if  it  were  discovered,  his  brother 
would  be  sent  to  the  pesthouse,  which  meant  almost 
sure  death,  kept  him  in  his  room,  nursing  him  and 
sleeping  with  him  every  night ;  but  he  was  discovered 
after  all  and  sent  to  the  pesthouse.  There  his  brother, 
now  a  professional  scout,  and  having  the  rank  of 
captain,  armed  to  the  teeth,  visited  him  in  the  night,  at 
the  risk  of  his  life,  furnished  him  money  and  delica- 
cies. All  through  the  war  their  affection  seemed  to 
grow  until  there  really  seemed  to  be  no  bounds  to  it. 

It  was  my  privilege  one  summer  to  invite  them  both 
to  the  Winona  Bible  Conference.  They  occupied  the 
same  room  together  in  the  hotel,  and  when  the  Con- 
ference was  over  S.  H.  Hadley  said  to  me,  "  This  has 
been  one  of  the  greatest  experiences  of  my  life.  My 
brother  and  I  have  scarcely  slept  half  the  nights.  We 
have  talked  over  the  old  incidents  of  our  early  life  and 
lived  our  experiences  over  until  we  have  almost  imag- 
ined that  we  were  boys  again  back  in  Perry  County, 
free  as  birds  and  happy  as  boys  could  be  with  such 
devoted  parents  as  God  has  given  to  us." 

Colonel  H.  H.  Hadley,  after  various  business  ex- 


TWO    BROTHERS  47 

periences  in  the  Middle  West,  came  to  New  York  in 
1868.  From  the  first  day  he  talked  of  his  brother 
Hopp,  and  wished  that  all  his  friends  might  have  the 
privilege  of  meeting  him. 

In  March,  1870,  Colonel  Hadley  became  engaged 
to  the  young  lady  whom  he  afterwards  married.  His 
boarding  house  was  not  far  from  the  home  of  his  in- 
tended wife.  He  sent  to  Zanesville,  Ohio,  for  his 
brother  to  come  on  after  he  had  succeeded  in  getting 
him  a  good  position  in  an  insurance  company.  He 
came  to  Brooklyn,  boarded  with  the  Colonel,  and  the 
three,  Colonel  Hadley,  the  young  lady  to  whom  he 
was  engaged,  and  S.  H.  Hadley,  from  that  time  were 
inseparable.  Many  evenings  were  spent  together  in 
singing  the  old  hymns  of  the  Church.  The  boys  both 
loved  music  and  could  sing  sweetly.  The  Colonel  and 
his  intended  wife  became  Episcopalians,  but  S.  H. 
Hadley  did  not  care  for  the  form  and  generally  went 
to  hear  Dr.  T.  DeWitt  Talmage  preach.  He  and  the 
Colonel  both  drank,  but  up  to  that  time  were  rarely 
seen  intoxicated. 

H.  H.  Hadley  was  married  July  13,  1870.  They 
wanted  Hopkins  to  be  the  best  man,  but  always 
sensitive  about  his  lameness,  he  refused;  however,  he 
was  there  and  helped  to  make  the  evening  very  happy. 
He  was  handsome,  bright,  witty,  and  musical,  popular 
with  young  and  old  of  both  sexes. 

The  first  home  of  the  newly  married  couple  was  in 
Newark,  New  Jersey.  To  this  home  Hopp  had  a 
night  key  and  the  three  who  were  so  devoted  to  each 
other  had  a  happy  time  together,  only  the  brothers 
drank  too  much  and  their  friends,  especially  their 
sisters,  Lucy  McCann  and  Hannah  Allen,  wrote  to 


48     S.    H.    HADLEY   OF   WATER    STREET 

them  every  week  in  which  they  had  much  to  say  about 
their  dear  brothers'  habits. 

In  1872  S.  H.  Hadley  met  the  young  lady  to  whom 
he  was  afterwards  married,  Miss  Sarah  Hulse  by  name. 
At  the  time  of  their  meeting  she  was  about  sixteen 
years  of  age.  His  friends  were  glad  to  hear  of  his 
engagement.  They  especially  said  that  the  responsi- 
bility of  a  wife  would  make  him  careful.  After  a  while 
he  became  so  reckless  and  was  drinking  to  such  excess 
that  the  Colonel  advised  his  returning  to  Zanesville 
to  his  sister  and  her  husband,  both  of  whom  had  always 
been  devoted  to  the  Hadley  brothers.  He  returned  to 
Ohio.  When  his  brother  secured  him  another  position 
in  New  York  he  came  back,  and  on  July  23, 
1874,  he  was  married  to  his  first  wife.  She  was  not 
quite  eighteen  years  of  age.  They  were  a  handsome 
young  couple  and  seemed  devoted  to  each  other.  The 
first  Mrs.  S.  H.  Hadley  joined  Dr.  DeWitt  Talmage's 
church  in  Brooklyn,  and  he  went  with  her  but  still 
continued  drinking  and  worked  at  his  business  with 
difficulty.  The  i8th  of  May,  1875,  a  delicate  little  son 
came  to  them.  The  mother  was  very  seriously  ill.  The 
boy  was  named  for  his  brother,  Henry  Harrison  Had- 
ley.1 The  serious  illness  of  the  young  mother  con- 
tinued ;  there  had  to  be  nurses,  doctors,  consultations, 
and  days  of  great  anxiety.  Hopp  finally  gave  up  his 
business.  He  was  broken-hearted.  In  the  month  of 

1  This  son  survives  his  father.  His  devotion  to  his  father 
was  wonderful  and  his  sorrow  at  his  great  loss  is  pathetic. 
He  has  entered  into  active  Christian  work  since  his  sorrow 
and  there  are  those  who  are  praying  that  God  may  raise  him 
up  to  do  a  work  similar  to  that  to  which  S.  H.  Hadley  gave 
his  life. 


TWO    BROTHERS  49 

July  the  end  came  and  the  young  mother  passed  away. 
The  little  home  was  sold  out  at  auction  and  the  young 
wife  of  nineteen  was  buried.  The  little  son  was  taken 
to  the  home  of  his  maternal  grandparents  in  the  State 
of  New  Jersey.  The  brothers  at  this  time  removed 
to  Washington,  the  Colonel  opened  a  law  office  and 
Hopkins  went  into  the  insurance  business  with  a  desk 
in  his  brother's  office.  From  this  time  on  his  moral 
descent  was  rapid.  He  neglected  business,  played 
cards  a  great  deal,  and  became  generally  a  fast  man  of 
the  world.  In  1876  S.  H.  Hadley  became  acquainted 
with  his  present  wife  in  the  city  of  Washington.  In 
1879  they  were  married.  The  Colonel,  in  the  mean- 
time, had  returned  to  New  York  City,  and  in  1880  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Hadley  came  on  to  New  York  to  spend  the 
summer  with  the  Colonel  and  his  family  in  their  sum- 
mer cottage.  The  Colonel  was  in  politics  and  Hopp 
had  a  position  that  he  got  for  him,  but  which  he  had 
great  difficulty  in  keeping.  Following  this  a  position 
was  found  for  him  in  which  he  was  supposed  to  secure 
subscriptions  to  a  certain  book.  It  was  at  this  time 
that  he  forged  the  names  that  he  has  so  frequently 
spoken  about.  He  wrote  them  in  his  order  book  to 
keep  his  position  and  get  his  salary.  From  this  point 
his  descent  was  more  than  rapid.  It  was  impossible 
for  him  to  hold  a  position.  He  was  a  confirmed  drunk- 
ard. Through  all  these  years  of  his  dissapation  his 
devoted  wife,  the  present  Mrs.  S.  H.  Hadley,  who  is 
still  living  and  maintaining  her  interest  in  the  Water 
Street  Mission,  never  for  a  moment  deserted  him. 
She  has  from  the  first  day  of  their  marriage  until  this 
present  moment  been  his  staunch  helper  and  supporter. 
It  means  much  to  so  refined  a  nature  to  give  up  all 


50     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

that  would  be  pleasing  to  her  in  the  way  of  surround- 
ings and  devote  all  her  time  and  energy  to  the  reclaim- 
ing of  poor  lost  men  and  women,  but  this  this  noble 
woman  has  ever  been  willing  to  do.  She  has  lived 
in  the  midst  of  her  husband's  work.  Whenever  he 
came  across  a  fallen  girl  who  needed  a  friend,  he 
knew  that  she  could  find  a  friend  in  his  wife.  While 
he  was  away  on  his  mission  work,  which  sometimes 
kept  him  into  the  small  hours  of  the  night,  she  would 
wait  his  coming,  greet  him  with  a  word  of  cheer,  and 
when  the  day  of  awards  shall  come,  and  S.  H.  Hadley 
receives  his  crown,  there  will  also  be  a  reward  of  in- 
estimable value  for  the  noble  woman  who  loved  him 
when  there  was  nothing  in  him  that  was  lovely,  and 
who  never  lost  step  as  she  marched  by  his  side  from 
the  direst  of  distress  to  the  great  position  of  honour 
and  influence  which  in  his  latter  days  he  was  able  to 
reach. 

The  climax  of  the  devotion  of  these  two  brothers 
was  the  conversion  of  the  Colonel,  which  is  best  told 
in  his  own  language. 

"  On  July  26,  1886,  at  midnight,  I  entered  a 
saloon  at  the  corner  of  Third  Avenue  and  One  Hun- 
dred and  Seventieth  Street,  and  with  a  lawyer,  who 
was  also  a  heavy  drinker,  had  six  brandy  cocktails.  I 
had  been  drinking  terribly  all  day,  but  it  seemed  as  if 
every  drink  made  me  strangely  sober.  I  had  fifty- 
three  drinks  that  day  and  night.  I  feared  I  would 
drop  dead. 

"  The  lawyer  and  I  grasped  hands  and  took  a  solemn 
oath  that  we  would  never  touch  another  drop.  I  meant 
it,  but  had  often  meant  it  before.  I  walked  home  and 
sent  for  a  physician. 


TWO    BROTHERS  51 

"  The  lawyer  drank  again  within  a  week,  and  was 
buried  within  a  year. 

"  On  the  28th  I  again  went  out  to  try  the  hopeless 
and  oft-repeated  task  of  living  without  strong  drink. 
My  business  took  me  down  town,  and  on  my  way 
back  in  the  evening,  trembling  in  every  nerve,  with  a 
thirst  no  man  can  describe,  I  concluded  to  call  at  the 
McAuley  Mission  and  see  my  brother,  who  was  then 
superintendent,  himself  a  saved  drunkard.  I  never 
failed  at  such  times  to  get  sympathy  from  him  and  also 
from  my  wife.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  neither  of 
them  ever  scolded  or  complained,  and  though  almost 
discouraged,  they  prayed  and  waited.  Oh,  was  faith 
ever  so  tried? 

"  My  brother  was  delighted  to  see  me  and  persuaded 
me  to  remain  for  the  meeting.  As  I  sat  there  listen- 
ing to  the  testimonies,  I  thought  of  how  true  he  had 
been  for  more  than  three  years,  and  what  a  hopeless 
drunkard  he  used  to  be.  Then  a  Scotch  printer  arose 
and  told  how  he  had  been  saved  from  the  very  gutter, 
and  pointing  to  his  well-dressed,  happy  wife  and  little 
girl,  said  that  they  had  been  compelled  to  leave  him, 
but  now  were  restored,  all  because  he  had  accepted 
Christ  as  his  Saviour. 

"  All  at  once  it  occurred  to  me  that  possibly  I  might 
be  saved,  too,  if  I  were  to  stop  trying  to  do  it  all  myself, 
follow  Jesus  and  trust  Him,  and  I  determined  right 
then  to  test  His  power  and  love. 

"  I  stood  up  and  told  the  condition  I  was  in,  and 
then  coming  forward  with  all  my  sin,  I  fell  down  on 
my  knees  at  the  bench  in  front  and  cried  to  God  with 
all  my  heart  for  mercy  and  forgiveness.  I  determined 
then  that  I  would  live  a  Christian  life  the  remainder 


52     S.    H.    HADLEY   OF   WATER    STREET 

of  my  days,  whether  I  felt  forgiven  or  not.  I  re- 
membered then  that  mother  once  told  me  that  if  a 
person  dies  while  earnestly  praying  to  God  they  would 
not  be  lost.  Here  seemed  to  me  at  last  a  chance  for 
heaven.  I  would  pray  till  I  died,  and  then  surely  I 
would  be  saved.  As  I  asked  God  to  forgive  me  for 
the  sake  of  His  dear  Son,  I  felt  that  Jesus  died  for  me 
alone.  How  real  it  seemed!  I  could  almost  hear 
them  driving  the  great  spike  nails  into  the  rough  cross 
through  his  hands.  I  confess  that  as  I  entreated  God 
to  take  away  the  terrible  appetite  for  drink,  I  had  not 
much  faith.  It  had  been  fed  and  growing  for  twenty- 
four  years ;  had  controlled  me  asleep  and  awake.  So 
my  faith  was  weak  then,  if  I  had  any  at  all. 

"  Then  I  thought,  '  Well,  He  bore  all  that  agony  for 
me  on  the  awful  cross,  and  I'll  bear  this  thirst  as  long 
as  I  live.'  Soon  as  that  thought  entered  my  mind,  it 
was  precious,  and  I  felt  a  bond  of  sympathy  between 
the  Saviour  and  me,  even  me,  and  said,  '  Oh,  yes, 
Lord  Jesus,  I  will  gladly  bear  it  all  for  Thee.'  I 
did  not  pray  any  more  to  have  it  removed,  but. 
that  He  would  comfort  me  for  bearing  it  with  His 
strength. 

"  As  Brother  Smith,  the  Assistant  Superintendent, 
prayed,  I  felt  resigned,  and  with  a  fixed  purpose  to  see 
the  end  of  a  Christian  life,  took  my  seat.  Somehow  I 
had  lost  my  load ;  I  could  feel  sad  no  longer,  and  from 
that  moment  to  this  I  have  had  no  desire,  longing,  or 
thirst  for  alcoholic  beverages. 

"  'Free!  free!  the  joyous  light  of  heaven 
Comes  with   full   and   fair  release, 
O  God!  what  light!  all  sin  forgiven, 
Jesus,  mercy,  love  and  peace.' 


COL.    H.    H.    HADLEY. 


TWO    BROTHERS  53 

"  Surely  I  was  turned  into  another  man.  I  was 
controlled  by  the  habit  of  profanity  until  then,  but 
since  have  not  thought  an  oath. 

"  That  must  have  been  a  happy  night  for  my  dear 
brother.  He  accompanied  me  far  on  my  way  home 
and  seemed  loath  to  leave  me.  When  I  reached  home 
and  told  my  wife,  who  was  anxiously  watching,  as 
she  had  so  often  done  before,  she  said : 

"  *  You  need  not  have  told  me,  darling  boy.  I  knew 
it  when  you  came  in;  now,  I  shall  call  you  good 
Henry.' 

"Oh,  the  tears  of  joy  that  night!  When  at  last  I 
slept,  I  dreamed  I  was  in  the  Mission  singing  the 
hymn  they  sang  that  night : 

" '  I  have  found  repose  for  my  weary  soul, 
Trusting  in  the  promise  of  the  Saviour. 
A  harbor  safe  when  the  billows  roll, 
Trusting  in  the  promise  of  the  Saviour.' 

"  The  next  morning  I  awoke  singing.  I  felt  that 
I  was  free.  The  birds  never  sang  so  sweetly  as  then, 
and  the  very  rocks  seemed  to  wear  smiling  faces  for 
me,  poor,  wicked,  sinful  me,  the  chief  of  sinners,  but 
saved,  forgiven,  redeemed,  converted  sure  enough  this 
time. 

"  It  was  no  trouble  to  keep  out  of  saloons  then,  nor 
has  it  ever  been  since.  I  know  God  can  keep  me  in 
a  saloon,  but  He  does  better,  He  keeps  me  out  of  one. 
No  man  who  loves  God  likes  to  go  into  a  saloon ! 

"  My  first  testimony  was  given  next  morning  to  a 
brewer,  who  insisted  on  my  taking  a  drink. 
'  No,  I  was  converted  last  night/  said  I. 

"  '  What's  that? '  said  he.    And  then  I  told  him  all 


54     S.    H.    HADLEY   OF   WATER    STREET 

about  it,  and  that  I  would  never  enter  a  saloon  again 
or  touch  a  drop  of  strong  drink. 

" '  Well/  said  he,  shaking  my  hand,  '  I'm  glad  for 
the  sake  of  your  boys,  but  just  come  in  and  have  a 
sodawater  or  a  cigar.' 

"  '  No,'  said  I,  and  from  that  day  to  this  I've  kept 
off  temptation  ground,  and  soon  after  stopped  the  use 
of  tobacco. 

"  I  immediately  committed  myself  in  all  possible 
ways.  Through  the  columns  of  my  paper,  which  had 
been  largely  devoted  to  beer  and  liquor  interests,  I 
informed  its  readers  that  the  editor  was  converted,  and 
would  no  longer  receive  advertisements  of  saloons  and 
brewers;  thus  throwing  away  many  hundred  dollars 
yearly  which  came  from  that  source.  It  was  a  severe 
struggle,  but  I  had  decided  that  Christ  and  I  would 
live  this  life  together,  cost  what  it  would.  Oh,  how 
tenderly  and  beautifully  He  has  redeemed  every  prom- 
ise! I  was  determined  to  trust  Him  absolutely,  and 
am  very  glad  that  I  did,  for  it  has  proved  His  promises 
and  given  me  wonderful  faith." 


IV 
HIS    LIFE    STORY 

IT  is  impossible  for  one  to  give  a  more  accurate 
description  of  the  life  story  of  Mr.  Hadley  than 
that  written  by  himself  in  his  book,  "  Down  in 
Water  Street." 

"  I  was  born  in  Malta  Township,  Morgan  County, 
on  the  banks  of  the  Muskingum  River,  August  27, 
1842,  the  youngest  of  six  children.  My  father  was  a 
New  Hampshire  man,  who  went  West  when  young  to 
seek  his  fortune.  My  mother  was  the  daughter  of  a 
Congregational  clergyman  in  Massachusetts.  Her 
only  brother,  Samuel  Hopkins  Riddell,  after  whom  I 
am  named,  was  also  a  clergyman.  My  grandmother 
on  my  mother's  side  was  a  Hopkins. 

"  Her  father  founded  the  Hopkins  Academy  in  Old 
Hadley,  Mass.  On  my  mother's  side  I  am  a  direct 
descendant  of  the  famous  divine,  Jonathan  Edwards. 

"  After  my  mother's  education  was  finished  she,  too, 
went  to  Ohio  to  teach.  My  father  was  a  partner  of 
the  Buckinghams,  of  Zanesville  and  Putnam,  Ohio. 
He  afterwards  moved  to  Malta,  and  bored  two  salt 
wells  there.  He  failed  in  the  great  crisis  of  1837,  but 
had  invested  for  rny  mother  and  bought  a  section  of 
land  from  the  Government  in  Perry  County  adjoining. 

"  There  father  moved  with  his  family  in  the  dead 
of  winter,  in  1845.  ^e  rnoved  into  a  log  house  in  the 
'  forest  primeval '  that  surrounded  us.  This  sectirn 


56     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

of  land  lay  on  the  dividing  ridges  of  Sunday  Creek 
and  Monday  Creek,  in  Salt  Lick  Township,  Perry 
County,  Ohio. 

"  In  our  log-cabin  home  I  could  lie  on  my  bed  and 
see  the  stars  through  the  cracks  of  the  roof,  and  feel 
the  snow  sifting  down  upon  my  face  in  the  winter 
time.  We  were  lulled  to  sleep  by  the  barking  of  foxes 
and  the  hooting  of  owls  in  the  woods  around  us,  and 
were  awakened  in  the  morning  by  the  chattering  of  the 
grey  squirrels  near  our  windows.  From  my  earliest 
recollection  I  was  raised  to  clearing  land ;  helping  to 
get  our  large  farm  under  cultivation.  The  heft  of 
the  work  devolved  upon  my  elder  brother,  Henry  H., 
and  myself.  My  oldest  brother,  William,  died  in  the 
university  at  Delaware,  Ohio,  as  he  was  about  to  finish 
his  education. 

"  I  had  two  sisters  living,  older  than  myself,  Lucy 
Hopkins  and  Hannah  Eastman.  The  eldest  child,  a 
girl,  died  in  infancy.  My  sisters  were  converted  in 
the  old  log  meeting-house  which  my  beloved  father 
built  and  gave  to  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church, 
which  was  dedicated  as  '  Young's  Chapel/  after  the 
celebrated  Methodist  preacher,  the  Rev.  Jacob  Young, 
D.  D.  They  were  about  twelve  years  old  when  they 
were  marvellously  saved  at  the  '  mourners'  bench,' 
and  received  a  definite  baptism  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
The  eldest,  Lucy,  died  in  1879.  She  prayed  for  me 
until  the  last.  Shortly  before  her  death  she  said  to 
her  husband : 

'  Robert,  Hopp  will  be  saved.' 

" '  How  do  you  know  ? '  said  he,  who  was  at  that 
time  an  unbeliever. 

"  '  Because  Jesus  told  me  so,'  she  said. 


HIS    LIFE    STORY  57 

"  My  younger  sister,  Mrs.  Hannah  E.  Allen,  is  liv- 
ing to-day,  surrounded  by  her  children  and  grand- 
children. 

"  The  neighbourhood  in  which  we  lived  was  very 
primitive ;  entirely  a  farming  section.  Most  of  the 
people  lived  in  log  cabins,  and  opportunities  for  educa- 
tion were  very  meagre.  I  attended  school  altogether 
about  four  months,  in  the  old  log  schoolhouse  with 
puncheon  floors,  one  whole  side  of  the  house  being 
used  as  a  fireplace. 

"  In  this  log-cabin  home  we  were  brought  up  to 
fear  God.  Family  worship  was  strictly  observed  morn- 
ing and  evening.  I  shall  never  forget  the  influence  of 
that  home;  that  sweet  Christian  mother,  precious, 
gentle,  and  tender.  Brought  up  amid  refinement,  un- 
used to  hard  work,  out  there  in  our  frontier  home  she 
did  all  the  work  with  the  aid  of  us  children. 

"  No  whiskey  or  tobacco  ever  invaded  the  sacred 
precincts  of  our  log-cabin  home.  I  promised  my 
mother  as  early  as  I  can  remember,  when  being  taught 
my  first  prayers  at  her  blessed  knees,  that  I  never  would 
drink.  Indeed,  I  promised  her  that  before  I  ever  knew 
what  the  evils  of  liquor  were.  Often  in  her  busy  cares, 
as  she  would  pass  by  me,  she  would  stop  and  hug  me 
to  her  bosom,  and  say : 

"  '  My  darling  boy,  you  never  will  drink,  will  you  ?  ' 
As  I  would  look  into  her  lovely  face,  I  would  say: 

" '  No,  mother,  I  will  never  drink.' 

"  This  promise  I  kept  until  my  eighteenth  year,  when 
I  was  induced  to  take  my  first  drink.  A  friend  of  ours, 
a  man  some  years  older  than  myself,  a  prominent  busi- 
ness man,  had  been  to  town.  He  got  quite  drunk,  and 
had  a  bottle  of  whiskey  with  him.  I  met  him  on  the 


58     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

big  road.  It  was  a  beautiful  moonlight  evening,  and 
he  stood  there  perhaps  half  an  hour  coaxing  me  to 
take  a  drink,  the  bottle  in  one  hand  and  a  corn-cob 
stopper  in  the  other. 

"  '  Come,  come,  Hopp/  he  said,  '  do  take  a  drink ; 
now  be  sociable.' 

" '  No/  I  said,  '  I  can't  drink  with  you.'  I  didn't 
say,  as  I  should  have  done,  that  I  had  promised  my 
mother  I  never  would  drink. 

" '  Come,'  said  he,  '  if  you  don't  drink  with  me,  I 
will  think  that  you  feel  yourself  above  me.'  I  felt 
stung  at  this,  and  took  the  bottle  from  his  hands  and 
turned  it  up,  and  with  my  eyes  on  the  moon,  which  was 
looking  so  kindly  down  on  me,  I  took  my  first  drink. 

"  Dear  reader,  I  have  been  careful  in  making  this 
statement  complete,  as  this  was  the  most  critical  act 
of  my  life  up  to  that  time.  That  first  drink  changed 
my  whole  life.  Within  ten  minutes  it  seemed  to  me 
that  I  was  taken  possession  of  by  demons.  Thoughts 
came  crowding  into  my  mind  to  which  I  had  been  an 
entire  stranger.  Oh,  the  sorrow  and  shame  and  crime 
and  suffering  that  were  entailed  as  direct  results  of 
that  first  drink ! 

"  It  isn't  the  last  drink  that  hurts  a  man,  or  the 
fourth,  or  fifth,  but  the  first  drink — that  is  what  ruins 
a  man.  If  these  pages  are  read  by  one  who  has  not 
taken  his  first  drink,  take  counsel  by  one  who  has 
suffered  so  much,  and  die  before  you  take  it.  Let 
the  saloon  door  be  the  dead-line  to  you. 

"  Within  a  week  from  that  first  drink  I  could  drink 
half  a  pint  of  whiskey  right  down.  My  precious 
mother  died  shortly  after  this  without  having  known 
that  I  had  broken  my  promise.  She  was  sitting  in  her 


HIS    LIFE    STORY  59 

chair  when  the  angels  came  for  her,  and  she  said  to 
my  sisters,  who  were  standing  by :  '  Tell  Hopkins  to 
meet  me  in  heaven.' 

"  Yes,  dear  mother,  by  the  grace  of  God  I  will  meet 
you  there. 

"  Six  months  afterwards  my  father  died,  and  our 
home  was  broken  up.  I  went  to  study  medicine  in  a 
village  near  by,  with  one  of  the  most  prominent  phy- 
sicians in  our  county.  He  was  a  brilliant  man,  but 
a  drunkard,  and  what  I  didn't  know  before,  he  taught 
me.  Before  my  course  was  finished,  I  got  into  trou- 
ble through  drink,  and  had  to  clear  out  as  fast  as  my 
horse  could  go:  and,  in  fact,  I  kept  clearing  out  for 
some  years  afterwards  in  pretty  much  the  same  way 
from  every  place  that  I  settled. 

"  I  gave  up  my  studies  and  became  a  professional 
gambler.  For  fifteen  years  I  rarely  went  to  bed  sober. 
For  many  years  I  did  not  see  my  danger,  or  was  too 
much  under  the  influence  of  liquor  to  think  seriously 
on  the  subject.  Occasionally,  however,  ominous  fore- 
bodings would  arise  in  my  heart  and  I  wondered  what 
the  end  would  be. 

"  In  1870  it  grew  entirely  too  hot  for  me  out  West, 
and  I  came  to  New  York.  Through  the  influence  of 
my  brother,  Colonel  H.  H.  Hadley,  who  was  here  and 
who  stood  high  in  life  insurance  circles,  I  obtained  a 
position  with  a  salary  of  $300  per  month  and  a  liberal 
allowance  for  expenses.  The  failure  of  the  company 
I  was  with  threw  me  out  of  a  position,  and  I  never  was 
able  to  command  as  good  a  salary  afterward. 

"  I  wish  I  could  describe  the  remorse  and  heart- 
aches of  the  confirmed  drunkard  who  feels  himself, 
slowly  but  surely,  slipping  down  to  that  awful  abyss, 


60     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

the  drunkard's  hell,  a  foretaste  of  which  he  already 
feels  in  his  soul.  I  have  passed  through  it  all.  '  A  pen 
of  iron  with  the  point  of  a  diamond/  even  in  the  hand 
of  a  Prophet  Jeremiah  could  not  describe  it.  Through 
the  craving  for  drink  and  under  the  hellish  influence  of 
its  promptings,  a  man  will  wreck  his  home,  will  lie  to 
and  deceive  his  best  friends,  his  wife,  and  everybody 
who  knows  or  trusts  him. 

"  I  had  lied,  stolen,  and  forged  checks.  The  law, 
relentless  as  a  bloodhound,  urged  on  by  outraged  and 
defrauded  creditors,  was  on  my  track.  So  weak  I 
could  scarcely  stand  or  think,  unable  to  sleep  or  eat, 
still  I  knew  that  if  I  did  not  make  certain  crooked 
things  straight  at  once  I  would  be  arrested  and  locked 
in  a  felon's  cell.  I  could  see  only  one  thing  to  do — 
just  what  the  devil  wanted  me  to  do — and  that  was  to 
go  and  perpetrate  some  crime  greater  than  anything 
I  had  ever  done.  Then,  in  the  agony  of  my  soul, 
delirium  tremens  came  upon  me,  as  stealthily  as  a 
snake  from  behind  my  door  or  through  the  window,  in 
the  room  where  I  vainly  hoped  I  might  get  a  few 
hours'  sleep.  Fiends  of  the  most  hellish  forms  gath- 
ered around  me,  holding  their  mouths  so  close  that 
I  could  feel  their  scorching  breath,  telling  me  what 
to  do ;  while  my  faithful,  loving  wife  was  holding  me 
in  her  arms,  I  feared  she  would  be  frightened  out  of 
her  senses  by  their  evil  plottings.  The  advice  of  these 
demons,  whether  real  or  imaginary,  always  tended 
towards  self-destruction.  Then  they  would  go  into  the 
next  room  and  speak  so  loud  that  I  could  hear  every 
word.  Often  I  would  rise  from  my  bed  determined  to 
end  my  life. 

"  One  particular  night,   at  Taylor's   Hotel,   Jersey 


HIS    LIFE    STORY  61 

City,  N.  J.,  where  I  lived  for  several  years,  I  went  to 
the  window  several  times,  determined  to  end  it  all, 
but  an  unseen  hand  restrained  me. 

"  I  could  mention  in  detail  the  many  positions  I 
held,  procured  chiefly  through  my  brother,  who  though 
a  heavy  drinker  himself  at  that  time,  had  not  been  con- 
quered by  it ;  but  I  have  spoken  of  failures  enough. 

"  On  Tuesday  evening,  April  18,  1882,  I  sat 
in  Kirker's  saloon,  in  Harlem,  at  One  Hundred  and 
Twenty-fifth  Street  and  Third  Avenue.  Our  home 
was  destroyed,  and  my  faithful,  loving  wife  had  gone 
back  South  where  I  had  married  her.  She  had  stood 
by  me  to  the  last.  How  she  could  do  it  I  cannot  under- 
stand. Dear,  faithful,  truthful  wife!  She  is  still  liv- 
ing, and  I  pray  may  be  spared  many  years  to  me.  I 
think  I  had  never  given  her  a  cross  word — surely  she 
had  not  given  me  one ;  but  our  home  was  a  drunkard's 
home,  and  all  was  gone.  I  had  pawned  everything  or 
sold  everything  that  would  buy  a  drink.  I  could  not 
sleep  a  wink.  I  had  not  eaten  for  days,  and  for  the 
four  nights  preceding  I  had  suffered  with  delirium 
tremens  from  midnight  until  morning. 

"  I  had  often  said  I  would  never  be  a  tramp,  I  would 
never  be  cornered,  for  if  ever  that  time  came,  I  had 
determined  to  find  a  home  in  the  bottom  of  the  river. 
But  our  Lord  so  ordered  it  that  when  that  time  did 
come  I  was  not  able  to  walk  one-quarter  of  the  way 
to  the  river. 

"  I  was  sitting  on  a  whiskey  barrel  for  perhaps  two 
hours,  when  all  of  a  sudden  I  seemed  to  feel  some  great 
and  mighty  presence.  I  did  not  know  then  what  it 
was.  I  learned  afterwards  that  it  was  Jesus,  the  sin- 
ner's Friend.  Dear  reader,  never  until  my  dying  day 


62     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

will  I  forget  the  sight  presented  to  my  horrified  gaze. 
My  sins  appeared  to  creep  along  the  wall  in  letters  of 
fire.  I  turned  and  looked  in  another  direction,  and 
there  I  saw  them  again. 

"  I  have  always  believed  I  got  a  view  of  eternity 
right  there  in  that  gin-mill.  I  believe  I  saw  what  every 
poor  lost  sinner  will  see  when  he  stands  unrepentant 
and  unforgiven  at  the  bar  of  God.  It  filled  me  with 
an  unspeakable  terror.  I  supposed  I  was  dying  and 
this  was  a  premonition.  I  believe  others  in  the  saloon 
thought  I  was  dying,  but  I  cared  very  little  then  what 
people  thought  of  me.  I  got  down  from  the  whiskey 
barrel  with  but  one  desire,  and  that  was  to  get  away 
from  the  place. 

"  A  saloon  is  an  awful  place  to  die  in  if  one  has  had 
a  praying  mother.  I  walked  up  to  the  bar  and  pounded 
it  with  my  fist  until  I  made  the  glasses  rattle.  Those 
near  by  who  were  drinking  looked  on  with  scornful 
curiosity.  I  said: 

"  '  Boys,  listen  to  me ;  I  am  dying,  but  I  will  die  in 
the  street  before  I  will  ever  take  another  drink ' — and 
I  felt  as  though  this  would  happen  before  morning. 

"A  voice  said  to  me:  'If  you  want  to  keep  that 
promise,  go  and  have  yourself  locked  up.'  There  was 
no  place  on  earth  I  dreaded  more  than  a  police  sta- 
tion, for  I  was  living  in  daily  dread  of  arrest;  but  I 
went  to  the  police  station  in  East  One  Hundred  and 
Twenty-sixth  Street,  near  Lexington  Avenue,  and 
asked  the  captain  to  lock  me  up. 

"  '  Why  do  you  want  to  be  locked  up  ? '  asked  he  as 
I  gave  an  assumed  name. 

" '  Because,'  said  I,  '  I  want  to  be  placed  somewhere 
so  I  can  die  before  I  can  get  another  drink  of  whiskey.' 


HIS    LIFE    STORY  63 

They  locked  me  up  in  a  narrow  cell,  No.  10,  in  the 
back  corridor.  That  has  become  a  famous  cell  to  me 
since.  For  twenty  years  I  have  visited  that  same 
cell  on  the  anniversary  of  that  awful  night  of  dark- 
ness, and  have  had  sweet  communion  there  with  Jesus. 

"  It  seemed  that  all  the  demons  that  could  find  room 
came  in  that  place  with  me  that  night.  They  were 
not  all  the  company  I  had  either.  No,  praise  the 
Lord !  the  dear  Saviour  Who  came  to  me  in  the  saloon 
was  present,  and  said : 

"  '  Pray ! '  I  did  fall  on  my  knees  on  that  stone 
floor,  and  said: 

' '  God  be  merciful  to  me,  a  sinner.'  As  soon  as  I 
was  able  to  leave  my  cell,  I  was  taken  to  the  police 
court  and  arraigned  before  Justice  Bixby.  He  was 
very  kind,  and  spoke  carefully  to  the  officer  about  my 
case,  and  remanded  me  back  to  the  cell.  When  they 
deemed  it  safe  to  let  me  go,  Mr.  Knox  McAfee,  the 
clerk  of  the  court,  came  down  to  my  cell  and  let  me 
go  free.  I  made  my  way  to  my  brother's  house,  where 
every  care  was  given  me.  While  lying  in  bed  the 
admonishing  Spirit  never  left  me,  and  when  I  arose 
the  following  Sabbath  morning  I  felt  that  that  day 
would  decide  my  fate. 


V 
MEETING    JESUS 

"INk  JTANY  plans  were  turned  over  in  my  mind, 
1%  /I  but  all  were  rejected,  and  towards  even- 
.L.  T  JL  ing,  at  the  suggestion  of  a  fellow-sinner, 
I  went  to  the  Jerry  McAuley  Cremorne  Mission,  No. 
104  West  Thirty-second  Street.  It  was  Sunday  night, 
and  the  house  was  packed.  With  great  difficulty  I 
made  my  way  through  the  crowded  aisle  to  the  space 
near  the  platform.  There  I  saw  that  man  of  God, 
that  apostle  to  the  drunkard  and  outcast,  Jerry 
McAuley. 

"  I  glanced  about  the  room  and  saw  a  mixed  crowd, 
I  assure  you.  It  was  the  regular  rescue  mission 
audience  that  I  have  grown  so  familiar  with  since — 
pickpockets,  thieves,  drunkards,  harlots,  sporting  men 
and  women,  and  up  near  Jerry  some  glorious  women, 
too.  Only  one  glance  was  needed  to  tell  me  what  they 
were  doing  there.  They  were  there  because  it  was 
good  fishing-ground  and  they  were  helping  Jerry  to 
bring  immortal  souls  to  Jesus'  feet. 

"  Jerry  arose  amid  deep  silence,  and  told  his  ex- 
perience— that  simple  story  I  have  heard  so  many 
hundred  times  since,  but  which  was  ever  new — how 
he  had  been  a  '  thief,  an  outcast,  yes,  a  regular  bum ; 
but,'  he  would  add,  '  I  gave  my  heart  to  God,  and  He 
saved  me  from  whiskey  and  tobacco  and  everything 

64 


MEETING    JESUS  65 

that's  wicked  and  bad.  I  used  to  be  one  of  the  worst 
drunkards  in  the  Fourth  Ward,  but  Jesus  came  into 
my  heart  and  took  the  whole  thing  out  of  me,  and  I 
don't  want  it  any  more.' 

"  I  never  heard  this  kind  of  Gospel  before,  with 
all  the  sermons  I  had  heard,  and  I  began  to  say  to  my- 
self: 'I  wonder  if  I,  too,  could  be  saved?'  There 
was  a  sincerity  about  this  man's  testimony  that  carried 
conviction  with  it.  I  listened  to  the  testimony  of 
probably  twenty-five  redeemed  drunkards,  every  one 
of  whom  told  my  story.  They  had  all  been  saved  from 
rum.  When  the  invitation  was  given,  I  raised  my 
hand  and  soon  was  kneeling  down  with  quite  a  crowd 
of  drunkards. 

"  Reader,  how  I  wish  I  could  bring  that  scene  be- 
fore you.  Never  till  my  dying  day  will  1  forget  it. 
How  I  wondered  if  I  could  be  saved ;  if  God  would 
hear  me.  I  was  a  total  stranger,  but  I  felt  that  I  had 
sympathy,  and  it  helped  me. 

"  Jerry  made  the  first  prayer.    I  shall  never  forget  it. 

"  '  Dear  Saviour,  won't  You  look  down  in  pity  upon 
these  poor  souls  ?  They  need  Your  help,  Lord ;  they 
cannot  get  along  without  it.  Blessed  Jesus,  these 
poor  sinners  have  got  themselves  into  a  bad  hole. 
Won't  You  help  them  out?  Speak  to  them,  Lord;  do, 
for  Jesus'  sake.  Amen.' 

"  Then  Mrs.  McAuley  prayed  fervently  for  us. 

" '  Dear  Saviour,'  she  said  in  closing,  *  I  was  a 
drunkard  down  in  Cherry  Hill  fourteen  years  ago, 
and  You  saved  me.  Save  these  poor  drunkards,  for 
Jesus'  sake.' 

;'  Then  Jerry  sang  in  his  peculiar  voice,  still 
kneeling: 


66     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF   WATER    STREET 

'"There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood, 

Drawn  from   Immanuel's  veins; 
And  sinners  plunged  beneath  that  flood 
Lose  all  their  guilty  stains.' 

I  had  heard  that  dear  old  song  years  before  around 
our  fireside  at  evening  prayer,  in  my  happy  childhood, 
and  it  came  back  like  a  sweet  memory. 

"  '  Now,  all  keep  on  your  knees  and  keep  praying,' 
said  Jerry,  'while  I  ask  these  dear  souls  to  pray  for 
themselves.'  He  spoke  to  one  and  another  as  he 
placed  his  hand  upon  their  heads,  saying :  '  Brother, 
pray.  Now,  tell  the  Lord  what  you  want  Him  to  do 
for  you.'  How  I  trembled  as  he  approached  me. 
Though  I  had  knelt  down  with  the  determination  to 
give  my  heart  to  God,  when  it  came  to  the  very  mo- 
ment of  decision  I  felt  like  backing  out.  The  devil 
knelt  beside  me  and  whispered  crimes  in  my  ears  that 
I  had  forgotten  for  months.  I  had  standing  against 
me  at  that  moment  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  for- 
geries on  one  man  alone.  In  the  agony  I  had  been  in 
through  drink,  I  had  forgotten  it  until  the  devil  re- 
minded me  of  it  there. 

"  '  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  these  matters 
if  you  are  going  to  be  a  Christian?  You  can't  afford 
to  make  a  mistake.  Had  you  not  better  wait  and  fix 
these  matters  up  and  get  out  of  some  of  these  troubles, 
and  then  make  a  start?  How  can  you  go  to  Sing  Sing 
prison  and  be  a  Christian  ? '  Oh,  what  a  conflict  was 
going  on  for  my  poor  soul. 

"  A  blessed  whisper  said :     '  Come.' 

"  The  devil  said  :    '  Be  careful.' 

"  Jerry's  hand  was  on  my  head.  He  said :  '  Brother, 
pray ! ' 


MEETING    JESUS  67 

"  '  I  can't  pray.     Won't  you  pray  for  me  ? ' 

" '  All  the  prayers  in  the  world  won't  save  you  un- 
less you  pray  for  yourself.'  I  halted  but  a  moment, 
and  then  with  a  breaking  heart  I  said : 

"  '  Dear  Jesus,  can  You  help  me?  ' 

"  Dear  reader,  never  with  mortal  tongue  can  I 
describe  that  moment.  Although  up  to  that  time  my 
soul  had  been  filled  with  indescribable  gloom,  I  felt 
the  glorious  brightness  of  the  noonday  sunshine  in 
my  heart.  I  felt  that  I  was  a  free  man.  Oh,  the 
precious  feeling  of  safety,  of  freedom,  of  resting  on 
Jesus.  I  felt  that  Christ  with  all  His  love  and  power 
had  come  into  my  life. 

' '  Sinking  and  panting  as  for  breath, 

I  knew  not  that  help  was  near. 
I  cried :    "  Oh,  save  me,  Lord,  from  death, 

Immortal  Jesus,  hear  me." 
Then  quick  as  thought  I  felt  Him  nigh; 

My  Saviour  stood  before  me ; 
I  saw  His  brightness  around  me  shine, 

And  shouted,  "  Glory,  Glory."  ' 

And  I  have  been  shouting  '  Glory  '  pretty  much  all  the 
time  since.  From  that  moment  until  now  I  have  never 
wanted  a  drink  of  whiskey,  and  have  never  seen  money 
enough  to  make  me  take  one.  The  precious  touch  of 
Jesus'  cleansing  blood  in  my  soul  took  from  my 
stomach,  my  brain,  my  blood,  and  my  imagination,  the 
hell-born  desire  for  whiskey. 

"  Hallelujah!    What  a  Saviour! 

"  I  promised  God  that  if  He  would  take  me  from 
the  bondage  of  strong  drink,  I  would  work  for  Him 
the  rest  of  my  life.  He  has  done  His  part,  and  I  am 
trying  to  do  mine. 


68     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

"  One  other  thing  has  never  ceased  to  be  a  wonder : 
I  was  so  addicted  to  profanity  that  I  would  swear  in 
my  sleep.  I  could  not  speak  ten  consecutive  words 
without  an  oath.  The  form  or  thought  of  an  oath  has 
never  presented  itself  to  me  since.  Bless  His  dear 
name  forever. 

"  A  few  weeks  afterwards  the  dear  Lord  showed  me 
I  was  leaning  on  tobacco,  and  that  I  had  better  lean 
entirely  on  Him.  I  threw  my  plug  away  one  night 
down  the  aisle  of  the  Mission,  and  the  desire  was  re- 
moved; in  fact,  tobacco  was  the  only  real  sacrifice  I 
ever  made  for  Jesus,  for  I  would  gladly  have  paid 
money  if  I  had  it,  to  be  freed  from  rum! 

"  The  wonderful  mystery  of  God's  love  for  sinners 
never  ceased  to  excite  the  most  lively  emotions  in  my 
breast,  and  has  never  become  an  old  story.  How  the 
precious,  pure,  and  spotless  Saviour  could  stoop 
down  and  bear  away  my  drunkenness  and  delirium 
tremens,  to  this  day  fills  my  soul  with  the  tenderest 
gratitude. 

"  Surely,  '  if  any  man  be  in  Jesus  Christ,  he  is  a 
new  creation.' 

"  How  are  you  going  to  explain  the  physiological 
conditions  of  a  man's  stomach  and  brain,  when  but  a 
moment  before  he  would  almost  commit  murder  for 
a  glass  of  rum,  and  after  the  precious  blood  has 
touched  his  soul  he  abhors  it?  It  is  simply  the  Divine, 
miraculous  power  of  Jesus  casting  out  demons  as  He 
did  when  on  earth.  '  Jesus  Christ,  the  same  yesterday, 
to-day,  and  forever.'  (Heb.  xiii.  8.) 

"Oh,  sinner,  are  you  reading  these  lines?  Before 
you  close  this  book,  take  Him  to  your  heart,  and  life, 
and  death  can  never  part  you. 


MEETING    JESUS  69 

"  When  I  arose  from  my  knees  in  the  Cremorne 
Mission  after  this  glorious  vision  filled  my  soul,  I 
related  my  experience,  and  for  the  first  time  told  the 
truth — mind  you,  the  truth  so  far  as  I  remember  it. 
All  drunkards  are  liars,  and  my  candid  opinion  is, 
that  it  is  the  last  thing  that  any  person  is  saved  from. 

"  People  crowded  around  me  and  shook  hands  with 
me.  I  was  amazed.  I  didn't  know  what  to  make  of 
it.  I  had  not  shaken  hands  with  anyone  for  six  months 
except  some  barkeeper  whom  I  wanted  to  '  hang  up ' 
for  a  drink. 

"  I  made  friends  that  night  that  have  stood  by  me 
ever  since.  Yes,  I  got  acquainted  with  some  of  the 
aristocracy  of  heaven  that  night.  I  went  out  in  the 
street  and  looked  up  to  the  sky.  I  don't  believe  I  had 
looked  up  for  ten  years.  A  drunkard  never  looks  up 
— he  always  looks  down.  It  was  a  glorious  starlight 
night,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  could  see  Jesus  look- 
ing at  me  out  of  a  million  eyes. 

' '  Dear  Jesus/  I  cried,  '  You  know  You  have  saved 
me.  But  how  am  I  going  to  stay  saved  ?  '  Already  the 
devil  had  thrown  a  shadow  across  my  path : 

'  You  are  saved ;  of  course  you  are ;  but  you'll  fall, 
and  you'll  be  awful  sorry  for  all  the  fuss  you  have 
made  to-night.'  It  seemed  to  me  that  Jesus  said  so 
plainly : 

: '  My  child,  work  for  Me.  There  are  thousands 
who  would  come  to  Me  if  they  only  knew  Me.  Go  and 
tell  them.' " 

What  S.  II.  Hadley  heard  Jesus  say  to  him  so 
plainly  was  ever  the  inspiration  of  his  life.  I  have 
never  met  one  who  was  so  evidently  desirous  of  doing 


70     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

the  will  of  God  as  he,  but  while  he  delighted  to  serve 
all  classes  of  people  and  was  willing  to  give  heed  to 
the  most  ordinary  invitation  for  service,  yet  whenever 
there  was  brought  to  his  attention  a  poor  lost  drunkard 
he  was  entirely  forgetful  of  himself,  and  of  the  weak- 
ness of  his  body,  and  I  have  seen  him  work  for  hours 
with  one  person  alone  or  travel  hundreds  of  miles  if 
only  he  might  help  to  lift  some  mother's  burden  or 
comfort  some  heartbroken  wife  whose  loved  ones  had 
been  slain  by  their  appetite  or  passion  for  strong  drink. 
He  was  untiring  in  his  efforts  to  help  others.  He 
was  never  too  weary  to  go  out  for  the  lowest.  He 
came  one  day  to  my  house  in  the  country,  utterly 
worn  out  from  his  city  work,  and  was  told  that  there 
was  a  man  in  the  county  jail  who  had  committed  a 
crime  under  the  influence  of  drink.  Nothing  would 
do  but  that  he  must  be  driven  to  the  county  seat  at 
once,  and  weary  as  he  was,  he  spent  almost  the  entire 
afternoon  labouring  with  the  man,  who,  like  himself, 
had  been  slain  by  this  powerful  enemy.  In  the  edition 
of  Perpetual  Revival,  under  date  of  March  3d,  he 
uses  the  following  illustration,  which  greatly  in- 
fluenced his  Christian  life: 


"  HELP    SOMEBODY    ELSE 

"  A  traveller  was  crossing  a  mountain  height  alone, 
over  almost  untrodden  snow.  For  a  time  he  went 
bravely  along  his  dreary  path.  But  with  the  deepening 
shade  and  freezing  blast  there  fell  a  weight  upon  his 
eyes  and  brain  which  seemed  irresistible.  In  vain  he 
tried  to  shake  off  that  fatal  heaviness.  At  this  moment 
his  foot  struck  against  a  heap  that  lay  across  his  path. 


MEETING   JESUS  71 

It  was  not  a  stone,  though  no  stone  could  be  colder, 
or  seem  to  have  less  life.  He  stooped  to  touch  it,  but 
found  a  human  body  buried  beneath  a  drift  of  snow. 
The  next  moment  the  traveller,  though  weak  himself, 
had  taken  a  brother  in  his  arms,  and  was  chafing  his 
hands  and  chest  and  brow,  breathing  upon  the  stiff 
cold  lips  the  warm  breath  of  a  living  soul,  pressing 
the  silent  heart  to  the  throbbing  pulse  of  his  own  gen- 
erous bosom.  The  effort  to  save  another  had  brought 
back  to  himself  life,  warmth,  and  energy.  He  was  a 
man  again,  and  instead  of  dropping  down  in  dreamless 
sleep  to  die,  he  set  himself  resolutely  to  save  the  life 
of  a  brother  and  thereby  saved  himself.  Thus  thou- 
sands are  falling  around  us  one  by  one.  And  shall 
not  the  sight  of  these  arouse  us?  Can  we  sleep  when 
the  Master  is  calling  us  to  labour?  Can  we  be  idle 
and  indifferent  when  the  cries  of  the  perishing  are 
sounding  in  our  ears?  Is  it  any  wonder  that  Christ 
looks  with  astonishment  upon  every  loiterer  and  asks : 
'  Why  stand  ye  here  all  day  idle  ? '  Is  he  asking  you 
and  me  this  question?  If  so,  will  we  enter  the  vine- 
yard and  work,  or  will  we  stand  idle  until  the  dark 
shadows  of  night  settle  down  around  us  when  no  man 
can  work?  What  we  do,  we  must  do  quickly.  What 
is  our  decision?  GOD  WANTS  AN  ANSWER." 


VI 
A    DARK    PICTURE 

I  FIND  it  exceedingly  difficult  to  write  the  next 
chapter  of  this  book.  It  has  always  been  next 
to  impossible  to  think  of  S.  H.  Hadley  as  ever 
being  other  than  the  purest,  noblest,  truest  Christian, 
and  yet  according  to  his  own  testimony  he  came  into 
the  glorious  light  out  of  the  blackness  of  despair. 

I  was  one  day  in  Tiffany's  great  jewelry  establish- 
ment in  New  York  making  some  inquiry  about  the 
setting  of  a  ring,  when  I  asked  the  salesman  regarding 
some  valuable  pearls  about  which  I  had  heard  a 
customer  at  my  side  speaking.  He  courteously  said 
to  me,  "  I  shall  be  glad  to  show  them  to  you,"  and  tak- 
ing out  a  square  piece  of  black  velvet,  he  spread  it 
out  upon  the  show-case,  and  then  laid  upon  the  black 
background  the  most  beautiful  pearls  I  had  ever  seen. 
He  told  me  that  the  price  of  one  pearl  was  $15,000,  and 
that  the  value  of  it  was  moderate  in  comparison  with 
many  other  gems  which  they  had  in  their  possession, 
but  with  the  black  background  the  pearl  was  almost 
dazzling  in  its  beauty. 

I  do  not  know  but  that  the  black  background  of  such 
a  life  as  that  of  S.  H.  Hadley  may  the  more  marvel- 
lously exhibit  the  grace  of  God  by  means  of  which  he 
was  saved  and  kept  for  so  many  years. 

That  he  was  a  drunkard,  all  his  friends  know  who 

72 


A    DARK    PICTURE  73 

have  heard  him  speak.  He  never  forgot  to  tell  it  nor 
did  he  ever  forget  to  couple  with  it  the  story  of  his 
salvation.  I  have  heard  the  story  repeated  hundreds 
of  times,  but  the  last  time  it  was  as  fresh  and  new  as 
if  I  had  never  heard  it  before.  I  never  heard  him 
speak  without  shuddering.  It  seemed  to  me  that  he 
must  be  telling  what  was  not  true,  and  yet  those  who 
loved  him  through  the  long  years  of  his  weary  wander- 
ing have  also  repeatedly  affirmed  that  in  his  testi- 
mony the  half  had  scarcely  been  told. 

That  he  was  guilty  of  forgery  we  know  from  his 
testimony.  One  hundred  and  twenty-five  forgeries 
were  committed  against  one  man  alone,  but  then  as  he 
has  frequently  said,  "  If  a  man  is  a  drunkard  all  other 
sins  follow  in  the  wake  of  drunkenness." 

He  has  also  told  us  himself  that  he  was  not  truth- 
ful. In  his  early  days  he  represented  to  those  who 
did  not  know  him  that  he  was  a  lame  soldier  and  that 
his  lameness  came  about  as  a  result  of  the  battle  at 
Stone  River.  Frequently  there  were  unscrupulous 
lawyers  who  wanted  to  secure  him  a  pension,  and  once 
or  twice  when  not  quite  himself  he  was  almost  on  the 
point  of  yielding  to  their  solicitations.  His  own  wife 
did  not  know  that  the  story  was  not  true.  His  beloved 
brother  and  his  wife  knew,  however,  and  when  he  pro- 
fessed conversion  Colonel  Hadley  said  to  his  wife,  "  I 
can  soon  tell  you  whether  Hopkins  is  converted  or 
not."  When  under  the  influence  of  the  Spirit  of  God 
he  had  made  the  wrong  right  with  his  true  and  noble 
wife  and  the  wife  of  his  brother,  as  the  Colonel  entered 
his  home  one  evening  his  wife  told  him  that  she  was 
sure  that  Hopkins  had  been  converted.  "  Did  he  tell 
his  wife  that  lie?  "  said  her  husband.  "  Yes,"  said  she, 


74     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

"  he  did."  Colonel  Hadley  began  to  tremble,  immedi- 
ately left  the  room,  was  powerfully  impressed  and 
confessed  afterwards  that  if  his  brother  had  failed 
to  make  that  wrong  right  he  would  never  have  be- 
lieved in  him,  but  because  of  his  honest  confession 
he  knew  that  the  story  of  his  conversion  must  be  true. 

He  was  also  a  gambler.  I  feel  a  sense  of  heart- 
sickness  as  I  record  the  words,  but  the  story  is  from 
his  own  lips  and  one  of  his  escapades  is  described  by 
himself  as  follows: 

"  A  Fourth  of  July  celebration  in  the  year  1865  was 
going  on  at  Logan,  Ohio,  and  I  went  down  with  a 
delegation  from  Straitsville  to  celebrate.  I  was  a  reck- 
less, drinking  gambler. 

"  My  girl  was  among  a  waggon-load  dressed  in 
stars  and  stripes.  They  were  as  pretty  a  lot  of  country 
girls  as  Salt  Lick  Township  could  turn  out.  It  was  in 
the  year  1865.  The  war  was  just  over  and  the  war 
feeling  was  very  strong. 

"  All  the  local  big-bugs  rolled  off  yards  and  yards 
of  patriotism  on  the  grandstand  of  the  Hocking 
County  race-track  down  in  Logan  that  day  where  the 
crowds  gathered  to  hear  them,  as  well  as  to  see  the 
waggon-loads  of  pretty  girls  and  mingle  with  the  thou- 
sands who  were  filled  with  patriotism,  importance,  and 
fighting  whiskey.  There  was  many  a  fight  there  that 
day. 

"  About  two  o'clock,  while  old  Tom  Millard  was 
spouting  patriotism  from  the  speaker's  stand  to  the 
eager  crowd  of  listeners,  Dan  Kline  from  Lancaster 
came  to  me  and  said : 

: '  I've  been  hunting  for  you,  Hopp.  Let's  go  up 
to  Abe  Spencer's  saloon  and  have  a  little  game.' 


A    DARK    PICTURE  75 

" '  I'm  in,'  said  I,  '  only  I  must  go  and  tell  my  girl. 
I  came  down  here  with  Phebe, — and  you  know  her 
father  is  a  preacher,  and  he  didn't  want  to  let  her  come, 
but  I  told  him  I  would  take  extra  good  care  of  her.' 

"  And  so  I  went  and  told  her  to  go  straight  to  the 
American  House  as  soon  as  the  speaking  was  over, 
and  to  wait  until  I  came.  She  said,  '  All  right ;  don't 
stay  long,'  and  I  said,  '  No,  honey,'  for  we  liked  each 
other  right  well. 

"  When  we  got  to  Spencer's,  we  all  took  another 
round  of  drinks  and  then  began  a  seven-up  game,  such 
as  you  never  saw.  Old  Rudy  Duvall  was  my  partner, 
and  Noel  Starring  sat  opposite  Kline.  We  played 
four-handed  for  several  hours,  when  Noel  said  he  must 
quit  and  go  home  with  his  wife,  or  she  would  go 
crazy.  Since  Starring  was  a  loser  we  let  him  go. 
It  was  a  rule  in  the  game  in  Ohio  that  so  long  as  the 
loser  has  a  cent  left  he  has  the  right  to  keep  the  game 
going,  though  he  may  stop  whenever  he  pleases  as 
long  as  he  is  the  loser;  but  the  winner  can  never  jump 
the  game. 

"  When  Noel  had  gone,  Dan  says  to  me : 

"  '  Hopp,  I'll  play  you  a  single-handed  at  two  dollars 
a  game.' 

' '  Make  it  three,'  said  I,  and  he  agreed,  so  at  it 
we  went.  I  had  about  sixty  dollars  in  my  pocket  and 
old  Rudy  had  a  pocketful  of  bills  and  plenty  in  the 
bank,  and  he  swore  he'd  back  me  for  a  long  game  with 
every  dollar  he  had  or  could  get.  We  became  deeply 
interested ;  as  we  played,  I  warmed  to  the  game  but 
lost  right  along.  Dan  kept  cool  and  won  every  time. 
It  made  me  mad  to  see  how  cool  Dan  kept.  During 
the  game  he  would  smile  and  sing  snatches  of  a  cam- 


76     S.    H.    HADLEY   OF   WATER    STREET 

paign  song  that  I  had  never  heard, — a  line  at  a  time, 
and  I  really  believe  it  was  the  attention  I  paid  to  that 
song  that  made  me  lose.  It  ran  like  this : 

" '  O  where,  tell  me  where  was  old  Abraham  Lincoln  born  ? 
O  where,  tell  me  where  was  old  Abraham  Lincoln  born? 
In  an  old  Kentucky  cabin  one  cheerless  winter  morn; 
In  the  Hardin  County  hills,  he  was  raised  to  plow  the  corn. 

" '  O,  who  led  the  Yeomanry  in  battle,  tell  me  who  ? 
O,  who  led  the  Yeomanry  in  battle,  tell  me  who? 
It  was  Honest  Abe,  my  boy,  who  stands  at  six  feet  two, 
A  stalwart,  gallant  warrior,  to  battle  for  the  true.' 

"  My  last  dollar  was  gone  and  I  stirred  up  old  Rudy, 
who  was  asleep  under  a  table,  and  he  loaned  me  a 
hundred.  We  sent  for  some  supper  and  played  while 
we  ate,  while  a  big  crowd  of  countrymen  looked  on. 
It  seemed  as  though  my  luck  would  never  turn.  We 
changed  the  deck  of  cards  for  a  new  deck  at  my  de- 
mand, but  yet  I  lost  and  lost  until  my  borrowed  hundred 
dollars  was  gone  with  the  rest,  and  old  Rudy  Duvall 
was  broke  as  well  as  myself.  The  sun  was  rising,  for 
we  had  played  all  night.  And  since  the  old  man  under 
the  table  was  dead  drunk  and  I  was  dead  broke,  I  put 
up  my  horse  against  a  hundred  dollars  and  played 
Dan  '  two  best  out  of  three.'  We  had  won  game  about 
and  stood  six  to  six.  Dan  handled  the  cards  and 
turned  a  Jack,  which  gave  him  the  game  and  my  horse. 
Then  I  put  up  the  horse  that  my  girl  had  ridden  to 
town,  and  staked  him  against  the  critter  that  Dan 
won.  This  time  we  played  '  three  best  out  of  five.' 
Again  Dan's  luck  stayed  by  him  and  I  had  nary  a 
horse  left.  Then  I  played  the  saddles  and  bridles.  I 


A    DARK    PICTURE  77 

couldn't  win  anything ;  but  that  old  song  kept  running 
through  my  muddled  brains: 

" '  O  where,  tell  me  where  was  old  Abraham  Lincoln  born  ? 
In  the  Hardin  County  hills  where  he  used  to  plow  the  corn, 
In  an  old  Kentucky  cabin  one  cheerless  winter  morn.' 

"  I  cussed  Dan  and  cussed  old  Abe  and  his  cabin  and 
his  cornfield,  and  cussed  my  luck. 

"  Just  then  Phebe  sent  me  word  that  she  had  been 
sitting  up  all  night  in  her  dress  of  stars  and  stripes, 
waiting  to  go  home,  asking  me  when  I  proposed  to  go 
with  her.  I  sent  her  word  that  I  was  stuck  in  a  game 
and  would  never  go  home  unless  my  luck  turned.  Dan 
said  he  was  ready  to  stop  any  time.  Of  course  he 
was ;  and  unless  I  could  raise  a  stake  I  could  not  pre- 
vent him  from  stopping  with  all  my  money  and  prop- 
erty in  his  possession. 

"  I  reached  down  under  the  table  and  took  the  watch 
out  of  old  Duvall's  pocket  as  he  snored  in  a  drunken 
sleep,  and  played  the  watch  against  fifty  dollars. 
Would  you  believe  it?  I  lost  it!  It  went  with  the 
rest.  Then  Dan  looked  at  me  kind  of  sheepish  and 
said: 

" '  What's  the  matter  with  playing  your  own 
watch  ? ' 

"  It  was  a  watch  that  my  brother  Harry  had  won  in 
the  army  and  had  sent  to  me  from  the  South.  He 
won  it  at  a  shooting  match.  Sixty-two  men  had  put 
up  two  dollars  apiece  to  buy  the  watch  and  then  shot 
for  it.  He  won  it,  and  sent  it  to  me  for  safe  keeping. 
I  told  him  that  it  was  my  brother's  watch,  but  I  could 
not  raise  another  '  ante '  so  up  it  went,  to  be  lost  like 
the  rest. 


78     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF   WATER    STREET 

"  '  I  really  pity  you,'  said  Dan,  '  I  thought  you  could 
play  cards.' 

"  I  looked  at  him  a  minute,  then  with  a  kick  roused 
old  Duvall  and  told  him  to  go  to  the  bank  and  get 
some  money.  It  was  now  ten  o'clock  Thursday  morn- 
ing. He  went  willingly,  saying  that  he  would  break 
the  bank  if  necessary.  He  could  borrow  all  he  wanted. 

"  While  old  Rudy  Duvall  was  gone  for  the  money, 
I  took  out  my  revolver,  the  only  piece  of  property  that 
I  had  left,  and  laid  it  upon  the  table,  saying: 

"  '  I'll  play  you  this  against  ten  dollars.' 

"  '  No,  sir ! '  said  Dan,  rising.  '  I've  given  you  every 
chance,  but  I've  sworn  that  I'll  never  play  against  a 
revolver.  It  means  bad  luck.' 

" '  You'll  play  against  it  or  I'll  play  against  you ! ' 
said  I,  in  half-drunken  desperation. 

"  Dan  looked  troubled  and  mad.  We  neither  of  us 
had  had  a  wink  of  sleep  and  not  much  to  eat,  and  the 
rum  was  telling  on  us  fearfully. 

"  Finally  Dan  tossed  a  whiskey-soaked  bill  on  the 
table  and  we  cut  for  deal.  I  won  and  turned  a  Jack. 
Then  I  made  High,  Low  and  the  Game,  which  put  my 
score  four  to  his  nothing.  I  held  the  ace  and  the 
deuce  and  won  the  game,  which  put  me  out — seven  to 
his  nothing.  Then  I  played  the  revolver  and  the  bill 
against  twenty  dollars  and  won.  Then  I  played  the 
whole  '  pot '  against  forty  dollars  and  won  again.  My 
luck  had  changed. 

"  We  stopped  to  eat  dinner,  which  was  sent  in  to 
us,  and  old  Rudy  came  in  with  five  hundred  dollars 
that  he  had  borrowed  at  the  bank,  but  I  didn't  need  it. 

"  After  dinner  we  played  all  day,  all  that  night  and 
all  day  Friday  and  Friday  night,  and  all  day  Saturday. 


A   DARK   PICTURE  79 

"  Dan  was  worn  out  and  demoralised.  I  had  won 
back  all  my  property,  all  of  the  money  that  I  had 
lost,  and  during  Saturday  night  and  Sunday  forenoon 
I  got  four  hundred  and  eighty  dollars  of  Dan's  cash — 
all  he  had.  He  wasn't  singing  any  more  or  smiling, 
and  apparently  didn't  care  whether  Honest  Abe  was 
born  in  Hardin  County  or  in  Perry  County,  and  he 
didn't  give  a  cent  who  led  the  Yeomanry.  We  were 
a  sorry  looking  pair!  Dan's  eyes  were  away  back  in 
his  head,  and  mine  looked  like  holes  burnt  in  a  blanket. 
I  offered  to  lend  him  some  money  to  go  home 
with,  but  he  swore  he  would  walk,  and  didn't  take  a 
cent. 

"  The  landlady  loaned  my  girl  a  hat  and  skirt,  and 
she  jumped  upon  the  saddle  as  fresh  as  a  rose,  though 
I  could  see  that  she  had  been  crying. 

"  '  Oh,  what  will  Pap  say  ? '  was  all  that  Phebe  said. 

"  My !  but  the  horses  were  fresh  and  they  laid  as 
straight  as  foxes  all  the  way  home — sixteen  miles. 

"  When  we  reached  Phebe's  home  I  hitched  the 
horses  near  the  door  and  while  Phebe  went  timidly  in 
I  hesitated.  Her  father  came  out  looking  mad  and 
worried,  and  said : 

'  You  needn't  have  hitched.     You  can't  come  in 
here!' 

"  But  I  walked  up  to  the  old  man,  took  his  hand 
and  asked  him  not  to  condemn  me  unheard.  He  lis- 
tened while  I  related  the  whole  story  just  as  it  hap- 
pened. When  I  came  to  the  part  where  I  began  to 
win,  he  seemed  much  interested,  and  when  I  said  that 
I  had  won  all  of  Dan  Kline's  four  hundred  and  eighty 
dollars,  he  looked  me  in  the  face  eagerly  and  said : 

"'Did  you  get  the  money?' 


80     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

"  In  reply,  I  pulled  out  wads  and  rolls  and  handfuls 
of  small  bills,  and  the  old  man's  eyes  bulged  out. 

"  '  Come  right  in,'  he  said,  '  it's  near  bedtime ;  turn 
in  and  have  a  good  sleep.  You  need  it.' 

"  We  had  corn  bread  and  coffee  for  supper — I  never 
tasted  anything  so  good  before. 

"  The  money  did  me  no  good ;  I  never  won  a  dollar 
that  stayed  by  me  and  I  aged  five  years  that  one  night." 

This  is  in  part  the  story  of  the  sad,  sad  career  of 
this  noble  man  of  God.  Grace,  it  would  seem  to  me, 
never  did  a  more  perfect  work  than  in  his  salvation. 
I  have  known  him  intimately  for  years.  I  have  never 
in  all  my  life  known  one  who  was  so  pure,  so  true, 
and  so  Christlike  in  all  his  dealings  and  experiences 
with  his  fellow  men,  as  S.  H.  Hadley.  He  was  saved 
through  and  through,  he  was  literally  made  over  by 
the  power  of  God  and  what  God  did  for  him  he  can 
do  for  anyone  who  will  trust  Him. 

The  fascination  of  gambling  is  something  awful,  and 
from  this  sin  S.  H.  Hadley  was  completely  delivered — 
he  hated  cards  ever  after  the  day  he  was  saved. 

There  is  really  no  sin  from  which  Christ  cannot 
completely  deliver. 


VII 
OUR    FIRST    MEETING    AND    OUR    LAST 

MORE  than  fifteen  years  ago  I  was  holding 
a  series  of  meetings  in  Jersey  City,  N.  J., 
and  when  a  mutual  friend  said  to  me, 
"  How  would  you  like  to  see  the  slums  of  New  York?  " 
I  answered :  "  I  should  be  delighted  if  we  could  make 
the  journey  under  the  direction  of  someone  who  would 
go  with  us,  not  as  a  matter  of  curiosity,  but  with  a 
desire  to  help  the  helpless,"  and  my  friend,  the  Rev. 
B.  Fay  Mills,  said :  "  I  will  ask  S.  H.  Hadley  to  go 
with  us."  I  had  heard  his  name  often  before  this,  but 
did  not  know  him, — in  fact  I  knew  little  about  rescue 
mission  work,  and  almost  nothing  about  Water  Street, 
except  that  I  had  heard,  of  course,  of  Jerry  McAuley. 
At  ii  P.  M.  we  crossed  the  ferry  and  came  into  the 
city  of  New  York.  On  a  street  corner  in  the  lower 
part  of  the  city,  which  was  then  overrun  with  iniquity, 
I  first  saw  S.  H.  Hadley.  He  was  standing  under- 
neath an  old-fashioned  gas  lamp,  and  his  first  question 
addressed  to  us  was :  "  Where  do  you  want  to  go, — 
what  do  you  want  to  see, — why  are  you  here  ?  "  Mr. 
Mills  said :  "  We  want  to  go  through  the  slums ;  we 
would  like  to  see  the  effects  of  sin  upon  a  human  life, 
— my  friend  and  I  only  want  to  go  that  we  may  cry 
out  the  more  vehemently  against  sin,  and  work  the 
more  faithfully  to  reclaim  the  lost."  We  visited  the 
lodging  house  in  which  he  was  then  interested,  and  I 

81 


82     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

was  perfectly  amazed  to  see  that  he  had  no  words  but 
those  of  kindness  for  everyone.  There  were  drunken, 
swearing  men  about  him,  but  his  words  were  only 
words  of  gentleness  and  love.  We  made  our  way  to  a 
low-down  dance  hall,  and  when  the  man  who  was  play- 
ing at  the  piano  stopped,  Mr.  Hadley  began  to  sing, 
"  Do  you  know  why  I  love  Jesus."  Everyone  listened 
to  him, — most  of  those  present  cried  with  him,  and 
when  the  song  was  over  he  said :  "  Boys,  I  was  once 
a  drunkard  myself,  and  Jesus  saved  me.  If  you  ever 
want  a  friend,  come  to  Water  Street."  We  made  our 
way  into  one  of  the  lowest  sub-cellars  which  existed 
in  New  York  before  the  Parkhurst  crusade.  Cursing 
men  and  women  were  on  every  side  of  us,  some  were 
sleeping,  others  gambling,  some  were  fighting, — the 
confusion  was  awful.  When  Mr.  L.  B.  Greenwood, 
who  was  of  our  party,  began  to  sing,  "  I  was  once  far 
away  from  the  Saviour,  and  as  vile  as  a  sinner  could 
be,"  the  shouting  ceased,  the  cursing  was  hushed,  a 
holy  calm  settled  upon  the  company  and  then  S.  H. 
Hadley  gave  his  invitation,  "  Come  to  Water  Street, 
men  and  women,  and  you  will  always  find  a  friend." 

We  made  our  way  into  a  house  of  shame,  and  here 
Mr.  Hadley  dropped  upon  one  knee  and  began  to  pray. 
His  prayer  was  to  the  Saviour  who  had  saved  him 
when  he  was  no  better  than  the  women  before  him, 
and  he  begged  Him  to  open  their  eyes  to  their  sad  con- 
dition, and  to  save  them  as  He  had  saved  him.  He 
had  not  uttered  half  a  dozen  sentences  when  the  secret 
of  his  power  was  revealed.  Every  word  came  straight 
from  his  heart  with  a  burning  force  which  seemed  to 
sweep  everything  before  him.  Those  who  heard  him 
knew  he  meant  every  word  of  it.  The  women  gazed 


at  him  with  wide  open,  wondering  eyes,  for  now  he 
was  praying  for  them,  and  as  they  listened  a  softened 
expression  crept  over  their  faces,  and  the  eyes  of  one 
young  girl  in  particular  drooped  and  filled  with  tears. 
When  he  raised  from  the  attitude  of  prayer,  he  gently 
put  his  hand  upon  her  shoulder  and  said :  "  My  sister, 
this  is  an  awful  life;  Jesus  saved  me  from  it,  and  He 
will  save  you.  Do  come  to  Water  Street  if  you  need 
a  friend.  Good-bye  to  you  all," — and  as  we  passed  out 
of  the  house  the  madam  who  kept  it  said :  "  Thank 
you,  sir,  you  are  very  good  to  come  and  help  us."  It 
was  by  this  time  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  as 
we  said  good-bye  it  was  then  that  he  turned  his  face 
and  looking  full  into  mine,  said :  "  Oh  !  Oh !  Oh  ! ! 
if  we  could  only  save  these  poor  people  whom  Jesus 
loves !  My  brother,  never  preach  anything  but  the 
gospel,  and  a  gospel  to  save  such  poor  lost  men  and 
women  as  we  have  seen  to-night.  Good-night," — 
and  he  limped  away  in  the  darkness,  leaving  us  with 
tear-wet  cheeks  and  hearts  burning  with  a  passion  to 
preach  the  gospel. 

He  came  to  the  Pacific  coast  when  we  were  in  the 
midst  of  an  evangelistic  campaign  there.  Concerning 
this  visit  he  writes  as  follows  in  his  last  report: 

"  My  own  health  has  been  miserable.  Last  winter 
I  feared  I  would  break  down,  but  just  in  the  nick  of 
time,  Mr.  John  S.  Huyler  invited  me  to  go  with  some 
friends  in  his  private  car  to  the  Pacific  coast  and  back. 
Just  think  of  it,  dear  reader,  an  old  drunkard,  such  as 
I  used  to  be,  who  would  have  been  glad  in  the  old  life 
to  beat  it  on  a  freight  car,  or  as  the  boys  call  it,  in 
a  side-door  Pullman,  to  be  invited  by  one  of  the 
noblest  men  in  this  country  to  make  a  trip  for  six 


84     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

weeks  in  his  private  car,  and  not  cost  me  a  cent! 
*  And  no  good  thing  will  He  withhold  from  those  who 
walk  uprightly.'  Mr.  Huyler  is  our  greatest  friend  and 
stands  by  us  like  a  rock.  Many  a  drunkard  has  he 
brought  here  who  has  found  salvation." 

I  sent  him  word  to  come  to  Oakland  for  a  midnight 
theatre  meeting.  He  was  too  lame  to  walk,  of  course, 
and  so  the  committee  provided  him  with  a  carriage. 
He  headed  the  midnight  procession,  and  when  I  en- 
tered the  opera  house  I  found  that  he  had  slipped  in 
by  the  stage  door  and  was  ready  to  speak.  He  was  at 
his  best,  although  suffering  from  weakness.  He  made 
his  appeal  and  sat  down.  I  felt  that  possibly  someone 
else  might  come  if  I  asked  them  to  do  so  and  arose  to 
speak,  when  I  noticed  a  man  of  rather  distinguished 
appearance  standing  on  the  stage.  I  beckoned  him  to 
take  my  unoccupied  chair  while  I  made  the  appeal.  I 
had  just  begun  to  speak  when  I  overheard  the  follow- 
ing conversation: 

"  Mr.  Hadley,  I  guess  you  don't  know  me,  but  you 
know  my  brothers  and  my  mother.  They  live  in  the 

city  of  D ,  and  my  name  is  K ."  I  stopped  a 

moment,  and  I  heard  the  great  rescue  mission  worker 
say :  "  Are  you  Jimmie  ?  "  "  Yes,"  said  the  man  with 
a  sob,  "  I  am  Jimmie,"  and  as  I  turned  backward  to 
look,  S.  H.  Hadley  had  his  arm  about  his  shoulder 
and  was  saying  to  him,  "  Why,  man,  I  know  your 
brothers,  and  your  own  precious  mother  told  me  you 
were  on  this  coast,  and  that  I  might  find  you.  Why 
not  kneel  now  and  let  me  ask  God  to  save  you  ?  "  and 
while  all  was  hushed  in  the  audience,  and  every  eye 
riveted  upon  the  two  kneeling  men,  such  a  prayer  was 
poured  out  as  only  S.  H.  Hadley  could  offer.  He  rose 


OUR    FIRST    MEETING    AND    LAST    85 

from  his  knees  with  a  shout,  and  Jimmie,  whose 
mother  had  prayed  for  him,  and  whose  heart  had  al- 
most broken  over  him,  was  converted.  It  has  been 
said  by  those  who  knew,  that  when  she  heard  of  her 
boy's  coming  home,  she  said :  "  I  shall  now  die  in 
peace,"  and  die  she  did.  Her  boy  was  thoroughly 
converted,  so  Mr.  Hadley  informed  me,  and  will  one 
day  meet  his  mother  in  the  skies. 

The  last  time  I  saw  Mr.  Hadley  was  in  Syracuse, 
N.  Y.  I  had  received  a  letter  from  him  saying  that 
he  was  coming  up  just  for  a  visit,  and  when  I  was 
seated  in  a  room  one  morning  engaged  in  a  confer- 
ence, I  heard  him  coming.  I  could  heard  the  thump 
of  his  cane  on  the  floor  and  his  peculiar  step,  which 
was  known  to  all  who  loved  him.  Entering  the  room 
he  sat  down,  and  the  sweetest  smile  I  have  ever  seen 
upon  a  man's  face  wreathed  his  as  he  said :  "  I  have 
come  up  just  for  a  few  days  of  rest  and  to  catch  the 
spirit  of  revival,"  and  he  not  only  caught  it,  but  he 
gave  it  to  others.  He  was  at  his  best  in  his  speaking, — 
he  thrilled  the  people  with  his  messages,  they  laughed 
and  cried  and  shouted  as  he  addressed  them.  He  ex- 
pected again  to  go  to  the  theatre  meeting,  but  he  said 
to  Dr.  Ostrom,  who  accompanied  him  on  his  last 
meeting :  "  I  am  tired  out,  and  so  if  you  will  say 
good-bye  to  the  people,  I  will  get  into  the  carriage  and 
go  to  the  train.  God  bless  you,  dear  brother,"  said  he, 
and  was  gone. 


VIII 
HIS    LAST    DAYS 

RETURNING  from  Syracuse,  he  made  his  way 
to  Stamford,   Conn.,  to  be  the  guest  of  his 
beloved  friend,  Mr.  Walter  M.  Smith,  one  of 
New  York  city's  prominent  business  men,  for  years  a 
trustee  at  Water  Street,  and  one  of  the  noblest  of 
men.     S.  H.  Hadley  loved  him.     The  fellowship  of 
these  two  chosen  servants  of  Christ  was  beautiful, — 
never  more  so  than  the  Sunday  they  spent  together, 
his  last  but  one  upon  the  earth. 

Sunday  afternoon  he  made  an  impassioned  appeal 
to  the  men,  speaking  with  greater  force  than  ever. 
Sunday  evening  he  addressed  the  young  people  in  the 
First  Presbyterian  Church,  Stamford,  Conn.,  and  it 
was  most  fitting  that  the  last  public  service  he  should 
hold  in  a  church  should  be  in  the  church  of  Dr.  Ott- 
man,  who  had  known  and  loved  him  for  years.  From 
Stamford  he  returned  to  New  York  early  Monday 
morning.  At  the  station  he  met  a  man  whom  he  had 
known  in  other  days,  and  realising  that  he  was  hungry, 
in  a  way  that  was  peculiarly  his  own,  he  provided  food 
for  the  one  who  was  in  need  of  it,  and  then  entering  a 
carriage  he  made  his  way  to  a  florist's.  The  daughter 
of  W.  M.  Smith,  whose  guest  he  was  over  Sunday, 
was  just  recovering  from  an  operation  and  was  still 
in  a  New  York  city  hospital.  Purchasing  the  flowers 
he  made  his  way  to  this  hospital.  He  was  not  willing 

86 


HIS    LAST    DAYS  87 

that  an  attendant  should  carry  his  offering  to  the  suf- 
fering one,  but  made  his  way  into  her  presence,  plac- 
ing the  floral  offering  before  her,  with  words  of  cheer 
and  his  bright  happy  smile  which  always  made  every- 
body feel  the  stronger ;  then  he  set  his  face  towards  the 
old  Mission.  He  took  lunch  at  the  Mission ;  from  one 
to  four,  as  was  his  custom,  he  received  those  who  de- 
sired to  see  him.  Then  hearing  that  in  Bellevue  Hos- 
pital one  of  the  men  who  had  fallen  away  was  just 
recovering  from  an  attack  of  delirium  tremens,  he 
entered  his  carriage,  and  taking  with  him  one  of  the 
mission  converts,  who  had  not  been  as  kind  to  the 
suffering  one  as  he  should  have  been,  he  made  his  way 
to  the  hospital,  which  was  the  scene  of  so  many  of  his 
acts  of  kindness,  and  speaking  kindly  to  the  one  in 
distress  and  offering  up  a  prayer  for  his  deliverance, 
he  again  went  back  to  old  Water  Street. 

Strangely  enough,  feeling  stronger  than  usual,  that 
night  because  there  was  no  leader  present,  he  himself 
conducted  his  last  Water  Street  meeting.  He  spoke 
on  the  fifth  chapter  of  Matthew.  There  were  several 
backsliders  present,  and  he  dwelt  particularly  on  the 
love  anJ  mercy  of  God  to  such.  He  tried  to  en- 
courage them  to  take  a  new  stand  and  to  trust  in 
God's  forgiveness. 

While  he  was  dressing  on  Tuesday  morning,  he  was 
suddenly  taken  ill.  The  old  pain  which  had  so  fre- 
quently distressed  him,  and  for  which  he  had  before 
spent  much  time  in  the  hospital,  came  upon  him  with 
renewed  force.  He  sent  for  a  physician,  who  stayed 
with  him  through  the  morning  hours  and  gave  him 
some  massage  treatment,  but  the  pain  steadily  in- 
creased. He  took  no  luncheon,  but  later  on  in  the  day 


88     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

made  his  way  to  the  office  of  Mr.  Walter  M.  Smith, 
and  said  to  Mr.  Smith  and  to  his  partner,  Mr.  Cutter, 
"  I've  come  to  ask  you  to  help  me ;  I  want  your 
annual  subscription,  and  I  won't  ask  you  for  any  more 
this  year."  This  was  his  last  appeal  for  Water  Street 
from  any  source.  The  money  was  given,  and  this  is 
the  final  entry  on  the  books  of  the  Mission  of  his 
personal  collections.  How  true  his  message  was,  that 
this  was  the  last  appeal  he  would  make ! 

On  his  way  to  Mr.  Smith's  office  he  had  stopped  at 
the  Southern  Railroad  office,  and  had  purchased  tickets 
for  himself  and  wife,  expecting  in  a  few  days  to  go 
South.  In  this  Southern  trip  he  was  to  join  me  in 
Dallas,  Texas,  and  I  can  see  him  now  as  he  said :  "  If 
you  will  just  give  me  a  chance  with  the  drunkards  of 
Dallas,  I  shall  be  perfectly  happy ;  it  won't  tire  me,  and 
it  will  be  a  real  old-fashioned  vacation." 

At  five  o'clock,  feeling  that  he  was  growing  worse 
each  moment,  he  telephoned  for  Mrs.  Carrie  Besserer, 
who  had  for  so  many  years  been  the  object  of  his 
special  interest,  and  not  only  his,  but  of  Mrs.  Hadley's. 
She  was  counted  by  them  both  as  their  adopted  daugh- 
ter. Mr.  Hadley  asked  her  by  telephone  to  come  to 
him  quickly.  She  was  in  the  Tombs  on  mission  work, 
but  came  hurriedly  and  to  her  he  said :  "  I  am  going 
to  the  hospital,  but  do  not  say  anything  about  it."  He 
then  went  alone  up  to  the  room  of  Mrs.  Hadley  and 
said :  "  Lizzie,  I  am  not  well ;  I  am  going  up  to  the 
hospital  and  may  be  gone  all  night,  but  I  will  be  back 
in  the  morning."  He  put  his  bedroom  slippers  in  his 
pocket  and  kissing  her  good-bye  made  his  way  down 
the  stairs.  On  his  way  he  met  the  cook,  Mr.  William 
Quinn,  and  said  also  to  him :  "  I  am  going  up  to  the 


HIS   LAST    DAYS  89 

hospital,  but  I  think  I  shall  be  back  to-morrow ;  good- 
bye,— God  bless  you."  "  Are  you  worse,  Mr.  Hadley  ?  " 
said  Quinn,  and  he  hurriedly  called  Mrs.  Lament,  the 
faithful  missionary.  She  came  and  Mr.  Hadley  said 
again :  "  Do  not  say  anything  about  this  to  anyone. 
Good-bye  and  God  bless  you."  He  limped  his  way 
down  the  stairs  with  Mrs.  Besserer  to  the  carriage  that 
was  waiting  for  them.  Five  men  were  standing  out- 
side the  Mission,  and  the  last  bit  of  mission  work  he 
did  was  to  give  help  to  three  of  them,  and  then  say  to 
the  other  two :  "  Boys,  you  mustn't  stand  around  like 
this,  go  out  and  try  to  do  something  for  Jesus." 

He  soon  reached  the  hospital,  where  he  was  given, 
not  only  because  of  his  prominence  in  Christian  work, 
but  because  of  what  he  was  in  himself,  the  very  best 
of  treatment.  Mr.  John  S.  Huyler  and  Mr.  Walter 
M.  Smith,  his  devoted  friends,  were  summoned  to  his 
side,  and  spent  the  day  with  him.  They  earnestly 
advised  him  to  accept  the  diagnosis  of  the  surgeons 
and  abide  its  consequences.  The  case  was  diagnosed 
and  an  operation  seemed  imperative.  Mr.  Hadley  was 
unwilling  to  take  an  anaesthetic,  because  he  knew  the 
weakness  of  his  heart,  but  when  his  true  friends  by  his 
side  urged  him  to  submit  to  the  doctor's  suggestion,  he 
gracefully  yielded,  and  said :  "  Very  well,  living  or 
dying,  I  am  the  Lord's."  The  operating  physicians 
were  doctors  Brown  and  Elliott,  and  there  also  came 
to  stand  beside  him  and  give  all  the  help  that  was  pos- 
sible Dr.  Garmany,  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
physicians  not  only  in  New  York,  but  in  the  country. 
He  counted  it  a  privilege  to  give  up  his  great  work  for 
the  time  and  assist  this  poor  worn-out  missionary, 
whose  joy  had  been  to  live  for  Christ.  Strangely 


90     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

enough  the  anaesthetic  did  not  seriously  disturb  his 
heart,  but  his  poor  body  was  worn  out.  He  had  liter- 
ally given  himself  soul  and  body  to  Christ,  and  when 
the  time  came  for  recuperation  there  was  not  sufficient 
physical  strength  to  withstand  the  awful  suffering  and 
the  weakness  attendant  upon  the  operation. 

Only  three  of  his  friends  were  with  him.  For 
three  days  no  one  was  allowed  to  see  him,  but  the 
nurse  said  that  in  his  delirium  he  was  leading  the 
meetings  in  Water  Street,  appealing  to  the  lost  to  come 
to  Christ,  and  singing  the  hymns  which  were  so  dear 
to  him  and  to  all  the  friends  of  Water  Street.  He  is 
credited  with  saying  as  he  was  nearing  his  end, 
"  What  will  become  of  my  poor  bums  ?  "  but  so  far  as 
we  can  find  out,  and  after  consultation  with  those 
who  were  with  him  at  the  last,  he  did  not  make  use 
of  this  expression.  He  sometimes  in  a  playful  joking 
way  spoke  of  the  converts  as  "  bums,"  and  called  him- 
self a  "  bum,"  but  in  his  serious,  sober  moments  the 
converts  of  Water  Street  were  the  noblest  men  upon 
earth,  and  were  always  spoken  of  by  him  as  such.  He 
did  manifest  the  deepest  concern,  not  only  for  the  con- 
verts of  the  Mission,  but  for  those  who  were  still  un- 
saved, and  it  is  true  that  his  last  breath  was  used  to 
express  concern  for  their  safety  and  hope  for  their 
ultimate  salvation. 

On  February  9,  1906,  at  5.30  in  the  morning,  he 
breathed  his  last.  He  slept  his  way  into  eternity. 
From  12  to  4  there  was  not  a  struggle,  but  sleeping 
sweetly  as  a  child  he  went  into  glory.  So  many  times 
in  his  sleep  the  nurse  would  hear  him  whispering,  and 
bending  over  him,  she  would  hear  him  say,  "  Precious 
Jesus !  Precious  Jesus !  "  When  he  opened  his  eyes 


HIS    LAST    DAYS  91 

that  morning,  it  was  to  look  into  the  face  of  Him  whom 
not  having"  seen,  he  passionately  loved. 

When  any  of  his  friends  were  permitted  to  see  him, 
he  never  lost  an  opportunity  to  send  some  message  to 
those  in  whom  he  was  interested.  He  sent  a  greeting 
to  me  when  he  feared  the  end  had  come,  in  which  he 
said :  "  Tell  Chapman  that  I  can  do  more  for  him  at 
the  Throne  than  I  can  do  here,"  and  I  have  ever  since 
believed  it.  When  the  message  was  conveyed  to  me, 
I  sent  it  on  to  a  mutual  friend,  Mr.  John  R.  Clements, 
of  Binghamton,  N.  Y.,  and  he  returned  it  to  me  with 
the  following: 


"  I  can  do  more  for  him  yonder 
Than  I  could  if  I  were  here." 

Walk  we  here  in  Christian  service 

Hand  with  hand,  and  heart  to  heart; 
While  the  love  of  Jesus  binds  us, — 

Silken  cord  that  ne'er  can  part. 
Reaching  out  to  lift  the  fallen, 

Speaking  words  of  help  and  cheer; 
Striving  just  to  do  what  Jesus 

Would  be  doing,  were  He  here. 


CHORUS  : 

Passing  on !    The  workers  leave  us — 

But  'tis  only  seeming  so; 
Yonder  at  the  throne  eternal 

They  our  trials  and  struggles  know. 
In  the  palace-halls  of  Heaven 

Oft  they  pray,  our  hearts  to  cheer : 
"  I  can  do  more  for  him  yonder, 
Than  I  could  if  I  were  here." 


92     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

In  the  by-ways,  'mid  the  hedges, 

In  the  haunts  of  vice  and  sin 
With  a  heart  of  tender  pity 

Seeking  wretched  souls  to  win; 
On  the  heights  of  worldly  splendour 

'Mid  its  dazzle  and  its  mirth, 
Holding  up  "  the  cross  of  Jesus  " 

Fairest  spectacle  of  earth. 

Here  and  there,  where'er  is  sorrow, 

Here  and  there,  in  paths  of  woe, 
With  the  words  of  life  eternal 

E'er  in  eagerness  to  go. 
In  the  world  so  much  that's  bitter; 

O,  so  much  that's  wicked  here ! 
Hands  grow  weak;  the  toil  is  heavy; 

Dimmed  the  eye  with  many  a  tear. 

God,  O  God  of  Battles,  strengthen 

Every  arm  that  fights  in  love, 
Till  the  last  soiled  soul  immortal 

Sights  the  gates  of  peace,  above; 
Then  around  the  throne  eternal, 

When  the  earth  has  passed  away, 
Will  each  servant  sing  of  Jesus, 

Through  one  never-ending  day. 


IX 
LOVE 

IN   the   thirty-eighth   chapter   of   Isaiah   and   the 
seventeenth  verse,  the  following  words  are  found, 
"  Thou  hast  in  love  to  my  soul  delivered  it  from 
the  pit."    The  marginal  reading  is :  "  Thou  hast  loved 
my  soul  from  the  pit." 

A  better  description  of  S.  H.  Hadley  could  not  be 
given.  He  was  the  best  exemplification  of  the  love  of 
Christ  in  his  seeking  after  lost  men  and  caring  for 
them  when  once  they  were  found  of  any  person  I  have 
ever  known.  Again  and  again  I  have  heard  him  say 
that  the  reason  why  Christians  so  often  fail  in  reaching 
the  lost  is  that  they  do  not  have  the  spirit  of  love.  The 
thirteenth  chapter  of  ist  Corinthians  was  his  creed 
and  he  never  was  unfaithful  to  it  so  far  as  I  know. 
Men  might  deceive  him,  but  he  would  love  them ;  they 
might  disappoint  him,  but  he  \vould  still  continue  to 
love  them ;  indeed,  the  farther  one  seemed  to  be  away 
from  Christ  the  more  he  became  the  object  of  the 
love  of  this  devoted  servant  of  Jesus  Christ.  He  once 
told  me  that  if  he  could  in  any  way  help  to  stimulate 
this  spirit  throughout  the  Church  we  would  have  such 
a  revival  as  the  world  had  never  seen. 

One  of  the  best  illustrations  of  his  spirit  along  this 
line  is  found  in  his  treatment  of  one  who  was  known 
as  "  Bowery  Ike."  The  following  has  been  written 
by  a  friend  of  the  Water  Street  Mission: 

"  It  was  '  Rummy  '  who  first  called  Mr.  Hadley 's 
93 


94     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

attention  to  Bowery  Ike.  That  was  in  September, 
1884.  Ike  was  one  of  the  most  alert  thieves  in  New 
York.  He  made  it  his  '  specialty  '  to  go  into  buildings 
where  carpenters  were  at  work,  and  steal  the  watches 
from  their  coats  when  these  were  hanging  up.  In 
describing  his  prowess,  Rummy  said  enthusiastically: 
'  Why,  I  have  known  him  to  swipe  eight  watches  at  a 
time !  Yesterday  he  got  pinched.  'Twas  too  bad,  for 
he  had  got  a  number  one  gold  ticker  in  his  pocket  he 
was  going  awray  with.' 

"  The  outcome  of  this  was,  that  Mr.  Hadley,  '  the 
friend  of  the  wicked,'  went  to  the  Tombs  next  morn- 
ing and  persuaded  the  judge  to  give  the  thief  only  six 
months  on  the  Island.  There  Mr.  Hadley  visited  the 
boy  many  times,  and  began  to  like  him  very  much.  He 
interested  his  wife  in  his  newly  found  protege,  and  she 
began  to  pray  for  his  redemption. 

"  Many  people  thought  she  might  as  well  pray  for  the 
moon,  for  Ike  was  a  born  thief.  He  had  been  arrested 
many  times,  and  often  imprisoned.  His  only  education 
had  been  received  in  the  New  York  Asylum,  from 
whence  he  escaped.  He  was  a  petty  sneak-thief.  It 
is  harder  for  a  camel  to  pass  through  the  eye  of  a 
needle  than  for  that  kind  of  a  thief  to  reform. 

"  When  Ike  was  released  Mr.  Hadley  got  him  work. 
He  did  well,  was  trusted,  and  rose  to  a  place  of  re- 
sponsibility, where  larger  or  smaller  amounts  passed 
through  his  hands.  In  this  place  he  did  not  steal,  but 
the  monotony  of  such  a  life  became  intolerable  to  his 
active  temperament,  and  one  day  he  disappeared. 

"  Some  time  passed  before  he  came  to  the  surface 
again — as  suddenly  as  he  had  vanished.  He  pre- 
sented himself  to  Mr.  Hadley,  asked  him  for  work,  and 


LOVE  95 

began  at  the  bottom  once  more.  At  one  time  a  busi- 
ness rival  of  Mr.  Hadley  hired  Ike,  thinking  he  had 
taken  away  Mr.  Hadley 's  '  mascot.'  But  Ike  stole  his 
clothes,  his  watch,  his  money,  and  would  have  stolen 
his  store  if  he  could.  Detectives  were  employed  to 
hunt  him  down.  Six  months  after  that  he  came  to 
Mr.  Hadley  again. 

"  '  Ike,  why  did  you  rob  that  man  ? '  was  the  first 
question. 

"  '  Oh/  he  said,  '  I  had  to.    He  watched  me.' 

"  A  great  love  had  sprung  up  in  Mr.  Hadley's  heart 
for  this  poor  criminal.  He  determined  to  save  him,  if 
love  and  prayer  could  do  it. 

"  While  serving  his  time  for  his  last  offence  Ike 
promised  his  benefactor  that  he  would  forsake  his 
vicious  ways  and  lead  an  honest  life.  He  kept  his 
promise.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hadley  had  their  reward,  after 
the  hopes  and  prayers  of  years. 

"  The  redeemed  thief  gave  convincing  evidence  of  a 
changed  purpose  in  life,  and  he  did  not  withhold  his 
public  testimony.  His  old  chums  would  drop  into  the 
Water  Street  Mission  to  make  sure  that  it  was  Bowery 
Ike  who  spoke  there,  and  if  he  had  really  stopped  steal- 
ing. The  habit  of  truth-telling  came  hard  to  the  new 
convert,  and  when  he  transgressed,  his  deep  remorse 
would  cause  him  to  get  up  in  meeting  and  openly  call 
himself  a  liar,  and  then  to  fully  state  the  truth.  But 
he  never  stole  again,  and  his  life  continued  clean,  al- 
though his  old  companions  not  infrequently  urged  him 
to  return  to  the  excitements  of  his  former  life. 

"  He  was  finally  sent  to  the  Moody  Bible  School  in 
Chicago,  where  he  developed  an  unusual  knowledge 
of  the  Bible.  He  had  charge  for  eighteen  months  of 


96     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF   WATER    STREET 

an  out-of-door  mission  in  that  city.  Just  as  he  was 
ready  to  return  to  his  Water  Street  Mission  he  sud- 
denly died  of  heart  disease. 

"  Bowery  Ike's  conversion  has  been  considered  an 
unusual  case.  It  took  ten  years  of  faithful  and  prayer- 
ful effort,  under  the  most  discouraging  conditions,  to 
lead  this  apparently  hopeless  thief  into  the  higher,  bet- 
ter life.  It  was  as  much  of  a  miracle  as  the  turning  of 
water  into  wine,  but  to  call  it  '  unusual '  is  a  mistake. 
Such  miracles  of  transformation  are  going  on  con- 
stantly all  around  us.  There  is  no  life  that  has  ever 
been  lived,  or  ever  will  be  lived,  too  vile  to  be  made 
pure  by  allegiance  to  the  divine  Teacher,  to  whom 
poor  Ike  was  led  to  give  his  love  and  the  faithful  serv- 
ice of  a  contrite  heart." 

Mr.  Hadley  was  unique  in  his  conduct  of  a  meeting. 
Fortunately  I  am  able  to  present  in  substance  what  he 
said  to  those  who  were  present  at  the  mission  on  two 
different  occasions. 

"  Brethren,  there  must  be  a  higher  principle  in  re- 
ligion than  feeling.  Just  as  sure  as  you  depend  on 
your  feelings,  and  measure  your  religion  by  your  feel- 
ings there  will  be  trouble.  Nobody  can  explain  how  it 
is  and  why  it  is  that  the  devil,  at  times,  gets  such  a 
control  of  our  feelings.  But  he  does  and  we  feel  sad 
and  gloomy  and  unhappy  in  spite  of  ourselves,  and 
then  look  out,  for  if  you  think  your  salvation  depends 
on  a  happy  state  of  feeling  there  will  be  trouble. 

"  But  oh,  brethren,  do  learn  that  your  faith  must  be 
in  Jesus  and  in  Him  alone.  Let  this  be  your  song: 

' '  I   dare  not  trust  the  sweetest  frame 
But  wholly  lean  on  Jesus'  name. 
On  Christ  the  solid  rock  I   stand — 
All  other  ground  is  sinking  sand.' 


LOVE  97 

"  Then  there  will  be  no  trouble  when  the  bad,  gloomy 
feelings  come,  for  your  salvation  is  not  feeling,  but 
faith  and  trust  in  Christ  and  his  promises.  The  peace 
and  joy  does  come.  It  is  a  part  of  the  Christian's 
life,  but  it  is  not  always  overflowing,  and  indeed  while 
sometimes  the  joy  can  hardly  be  expressed  and  the 
'  peace  flows  like  a  river,'  again  there  seems  no 
peace,  no  joy,  no  light,  then  trust  Jesus.  Look  up  and 
say,  *  Dear  Jesus,  thou  art  mine  and  I  am  thine.  I 
trust  thee  to  keep  me  in  the  dark  and  discouraging 
hour. 

"  Oh,  brethren,  get  beyond  the  fear  of  falling. 

"  Let  the  thought  never  enter  your  mind.  One  will 
say,  '  Now  if  I  take  that  job  will  I  keep  sober?  Can 
I  stand  there  ? '  Of  course  you  will  stand  if  you  tell 
everybody  what  you  have  been  and  what  Jesus  has 
saved  you  from.  I  have  never  once  since  the  Lord 
saved  me  had  one  thought  of  taking  a  drink  or  going 
back  into  sin.  But  I  have  been  careful  to  tell  every- 
body what  Christ  has  done  for  me.  Confess  Him 
everywhere !  Oh,  brethren !  get  on  a  higher  plane." 

In  a  meeting  at  the  Mission  April  24,  1896,  he  said : 
"  I  used  to  think  I  would  be  willing  to  crawl  on  my 
knees  all.  my  lifetime  if  God  would  keep  me  from 
wanting  whiskey.  But  for  fourteen  years  I  have  been 
flying.  He  don't  let  us  crawl.  Oh,  dear  converts,  let 
Jesus  be  first  and  uppermost  in  thought  and  life  and 
let  all  other  things  trail  on  after. 

"  Fourteen  years  this  morning  was  my  first  day  a 
Christian.  I  prayed  at  eight  o'clock,  '  Lord,  keep  me 
from  drinking  and  swearing  till  nine  o'clock.'  At  nine 
o'clock  I  prayed,  '  Jesus,  keep  me  from  drinking  and 
swearing  till  ten  o'clock,'  and  so  on  all  that  first  day, 


98     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF   WATER    STREET 

and  there  I  learned  the  secret  of  living  and  walking 
with  Jesus ;  trusting  moment  by  moment.  Later  I 
learned  there  were  other  sins  to  be  overcome  besides 
drinking  and  swearing.  Never  have  I  from  that  day 
wanted  or  felt  the  least  desire  for  whiskey  or  any  sins 
of  the  old  life.  For  three  months  I  had  a  job  as  watch- 
man at  three  dollars  per  week.  I  often  thought,  '  Lord, 
why  is  it  I  have  to  work  for  wages  less  than  I  got 
when  a  boy  ?  '  But  now  I  look  back  with  joy  to  those 
three  months." 

Another  time  this  was  a  part  of  his  testimony: 

"  The  old  ship  had  sunk,  but  there  was  a  lot  of 
debris  floating  around,  old  bedsteads,  mattresses, 
chicken-coops,  etc.,  that  would  not  sink.  I  was  smok- 
ing and  chewing  tobacco.  The  Lord  Jesus  said,  '  Oh, 
oh,  oh,  my  child !  give  it  up.'  I  said,  '  Why,  Lord, 
it  would  kill  me ;  I  would  surely  die.' 

"  Jesus  said,  '  My  child,  what  have  you  ever  given 
up  for  me  ? '  I  said,  '  Nothing,  Lord,  I  never  gave 
up  anything  for  you,  and  I  will  give  up  my  tobacco.' 
And  I  did  it.  Then  the  Lord  showed  me  it  was  wrong 
to  get  mad  and  I  asked  him  to  take  the  mad  out  of 
me  and  He  did  that.  Hallelujah,  what  a  Saviour! 
Will  I  ever  forget  what  Jesus  has  done  for  me?" 

It  is,  however,  the  universal  testimony  of  those  who 
have  been  most  faithful  in  their  attendance  at  Water 
Street,  that  it  was  not  simply  Mr.  Hadley's  way  of 
saying  things,  but  what  he  was  in  himself,  that  counted 
with  the  men  who  were  ready  to  listen  to  him.  I  once 
heard  a  man  say :  "  Whatever  S.  H.  Hadley  may  say, 
or  however  he  may  say  it,  I  know  he  loves  me  because 
I  am  a  lost  man."  In  all  my  experience  as  a  minister 
I  have  never  known  anyone,  I  am  sure,  who  was  so 


LOVE  99 

perfect  an  illustration  of  the  love  of  Christ  for  sinful 
men  as  himself,  and  almost  a  countless  number  of 
people  to-day  rise  up  to  call  him  blessed. 

Mr.  Hadley  was  an  ordained  Methodist  minister. 
He  had  no  training  in  the  schools,  but  he  had  a  great 
training  in  the  school  of  life  which  so  eminently 
qualified  him  for  work  in  the  Master's  vineyard,  so 
the  great  Methodist  Church  honoured  herself  in  set- 
ting him  apart  in  a  special  manner  to  do  the  work 
of  the  Master.  He  was  ordained  deacon  in  1900  and 
set  apart  as  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  in  1904.  In 
the  Christian  Advocate  of  April  21,  1904,  the  fol- 
lowing reference  is  made  to  his  ordination: 

"  A  spirited  but  pleasant  discussion  took  place  on 
the  question  of  granting  local  elder's  orders  to  S.  H. 
Hadley,  the  Superintendent  of  the  Water  Street  Mis- 
sion. New  York  East  Conference  rarely  gives  ordina- 
tion to  brethren  not  entering  the  regular  ministry,  but 
in  the  case  of  Brother  Hadley,  such  is  the  interest  in 
his  work,  and  with  such  favour  have  his  peculiar  gifts 
been  honoured,  that  the  most  careful  and  conservative 
men  of  the  Conference  gladly  voted  him  the  privi- 
leges of  an  elder.  The  speech  of  Professor  Rice, 
Chairman  of  the  Board  of  Examiners,  in  moving  that 
Brother  Hadley  be  elected  to  elder's  orders  was  an 
exquisite  piece  of  special  pleading,  and  the  same  is 
true  of  that  of  Dr.  Buckley.  Dr.  Downey,  Dr.  F.  M. 
North,  and  several  others  added  eloquent  tributes  to 
the  great  work  Mr.  Hadley  is  doing,  and  he  was 
unanimously  recommended  for  ordination." 

Concerning  this  solemn  service,  Rev.  James  M. 
Buckley,  D.  D.,  the  distinguished  editor  of  the  Chris- 
tian Advocate,  writes  as  follows: 


100     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

"  The  Rev.  S.  H.  Hadley  was  long  a  lay  member 
of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  within  the  bounds 
of  the  New  York  East  Conference.  It  is  the  system  of 
the  church  to  make  use  of  the  labours  of  goodly 
laymen  having  gifts,  grace  and  usefulness,  as  (what 
are  called)  local  preachers.  The  lowest  grade  of 
these  is  simply  the  right  to  preach  and  to  supply  pul- 
pits at  the  request  of  pastors,  or  under  the  direction 
of  the  presiding  elders.  The  next  degree  is  that  of  a 
deacon ;  a  deacon  must  be  ordained  and  can  baptise  and 
assist  in  the  administration  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  and 
the  third  and  last  is  that  of  elder,  who  can  perform 
all  the  functions  of  a  minister.  A  course  of  study  is 
marked  out  for  these  classes  or  degrees  respectively. 
Beside  the  study  there  must  be  the  reading  of  several 
books.  The  ordination  takes  place  at  the  session  of 
the  Annual  Conference.  Those  who  cannot  pass  the 
examinations  are  so  reported  to  the  Conference  and 
usually  they  are  not  ordained.  But  at  all  times  useful 
men  sound  in  faith,  with  a  fair  acquaintance  with 
doctrine  and  discipline,  are  dealt  with  considerately. 

"  When  Mr.  Hadley's  case  came  up  the  Committee 
had  to  report  him  deficient  in  some  of  the  studies  and 
as  not  having  read  all  the  books.  He  did  not  reach 
the  minimum  mark  on  a  scale  of  ten.  The  Conference 
sympathetically  smiled,  and  one  man  asked  if  '  we 
were  going  to  let  down  the  bars,  disregard  our  rules, 
etc.'  This  was  not  raised  very  seriously  and  several 
spoke  of  Mr.  Hadley's  work,  his  piety,  his  common 
sense,  his  soundness  in  the  faith,  and  the  blessing  of 
God  upon  his  labours,  and  all,  including  Professor 
William  North  Rice,  the  Chairman  of  the  Committee 
of  Examination,  favoured  his  passage  with  the  result 


LOVE  101 

that  it  was  unanimously  voted,  and  he  was  duly  or- 
dained. The  rumour  that  there  were  objections  and 
a  great  opposition  overcome  with  much  difficulty  was 
baseless." 

I  have  no  question  at  all  but  that  in  thus  solemnly 
setting  apart  S.  H.  Hadley  to  the  work  of  the  ministry, 
the  Methodist  Church  gave  to  the  world  one  of  her 
most  distinguished  sons,  and  I  am  very  sure  that  the 
action  must  have  had  the  approval  of  the  great  head 
of  the  church. 


rx 

WATER    STREET    MISSION 

THE  founder  of  the  Water  Street  Mission, 
Jerry  McAuley,  was  born  in  Ireland  in  1837. 
He  came  to  this  country  at  the  age  of  thir- 
teen years  and  was  brought  up  in  the  Fourth  Ward 
by  his  grandmother.  He  soon  got  beyond  her  control 
and  became  a  thief.  At  the  age  of  nineteen  he  was  sen- 
tenced to  Sing  Sing  prison  for  a  term  of  fifteen  years 
and  six  months.  In  the  Prison  Chapel  one  Sunday 
morning  "  Awful  "  Gardner,  a  noted  prize  fighter  and 
an  all  round  ruffian  whom  Jerry  had  known  prior  to 
going  to  prison,  was  preaching.  Gardner  had  been 
converted.  When  Jerry  heard  him  he  said,  "  That 
man  is  honest."  He  was  deeply  convicted  of  his  sin 
and  in  his  cell  towards  evening  the  light  broke  in  upon 
him  and  he  found  Jesus,  but  after  his  testimonial,  pos- 
sibly because  of  lack  of  special  assistance,  certainly  in 
part  because  of  great  temptation,  he  fell.  This  was 
repeated  several  times,  but  at  last  he  was  brought  to 
Christ  and  the  great  Mission  was  established  in  1872. 

Concerning  this  Mission  Dr.  Arthur  T.  Pierson 
writes  as  follows: 

"  No.  316  Water  Street,  New  York,  is  almost  ex- 
actly underneath  the  western  approach  to  the  great 
suspension  bridge  which  spans  the  East  River.  Any 
night  of  the  year  a  good-sized  room  may  there  be 
found,  full  of  men,  who,  for  the  most  part,  are  ob- 
viously poor,  given  to  drink  and  other  vices;  and 

102 


02 


g 

tf 

H 
03 

tf 


WATER    STREET    MISSION  103 

many  faces  bear  the  marks  of  crime.  A  few  seem  to 
have  the  black  brand  of  Cain.  The  tramp  and  pauper, 
the  pickpocket  and  river  thief,  the  besotted  sailor  and 
highway  robber,  the  procurer  to  lust  and  the  blatant 
blasphemer — every  class  of  the  worst  men  and  women 
find  their  way  there,  and  one  may  there  speak  to  from 
two  hundred  to  three  hundred  of  these  victims  of 
want,  woe,  and  vice.  On  one  night  of  the  week  these 
hundreds  are  freely  fed  with  good  bread  and  coffee, 
as  well  as  with  the  Bread  of  Life.  The  Gospel  is  sung 
with  rousing  effect,  brief  and  simple  Gospel  talks  in- 
terspersed, and  an  after-meeting  always  follows  for 
prayer  and  testimony,  and  hand-to-hand  touch  with 
inquirers. 

"  For  over  a  quarter  of  a  century,  night  after  night 
in  hot  and  cold  weather,  in  wet  and  dry,  with  no  de- 
pendence but  faith  in  God,  with  no  recompense  but 
the  wages  of  soul  winners,  his  work  has  gone  on,  at 
times  scarce  surviving  for  want  of  funds  and  popular 
sympathy,  yet  always  outliving  any  threatened  danger 
of  collapse,  because  God  is  behind  it." 

Thirty-four  years  ago,  316  Water  Street  was  in  the 
very  core  of  the  most  villainous  slum  region  in 
America.  No  man's  life  was  safe  in  the  vicinity  after 
dark.  Not  a  policeman  could  be  induced  to  visit  the 
locality  unless  armed  to  the  teeth  and  accompanied  by 
a  brother  officer.  Every  place  that  was  not  a  saloon 
was  a  dance  house,  gambling  den  or  a  bagnio.  A 
block  away  was  Kit  Burns'  rat  pit,  where  Kit's  illus- 
trious son-in-law,  "  Jack-the-Rat,"  used  to  bite  a  live 
rat's  head  off  every  night  and  pass  the  hat  through 
the  crowd  for  a  collection. 

Prize  fights  occurred  nearly  every  night,  and  many 


104     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

fights  took  place  in  which  there  was  no  prize  save 
black  eyes  and  broken  bones.  Assassination,  robbery, 
suicide,  lust  and  every  form  of  crime  known  to  dark- 
ness thrived  like  snakes  in  a  tropical  forest. 

One  day  a  missionary  named  Little  invaded  the 
neighbourhood  and  was  confronted  on  a  stairway  by  a 
drunken  woman  who  wanted  to  fight.  "  Do  you  know 
Jesus  ?  "  asked  the  missionary  by  way  of  diverting  the 
issue.  "Faith,  an'  who  is  Jesus?"  demanded  the 
woman.  Near  by  lay  a  bundle  of  rags  within  which 
was  a  human  being.  "  What's  that  yez  says  ? "  de- 
manded the  rags,  rising  to  their  feet.  The  apparition 
was  Jerry  McAuley,  drunkard,  thug,  thief,  and  ex- 
convict,  who  had  just  been  pardoned  out  of  Sing 
Sing,  where  he  had  been  sentenced  to  nineteen  years' 
imprisonment.  Jerry  had  been  converted  in  prison 
through  the  preaching  of  "  Awful  "  Gardner,  his  prize- 
fighting pal,  who  had  been  converted  before  him ;  but 
Jerry  had  fallen  back  into  the  gutter  before  he  had 
learned  his  first  prayer. 

Five  times  Jerry  backslid  to  the  depths,  but  he  finally 
reached  firm  ground  and  began  his  work  of  helping 
others.  His  modest  efforts  attracted  the  attention  of 
a  few  such  men  as  A.  S.  Hatch,  the  banker,  who  gave 
him  assistance.  Shortly  the  old  rookery  at  316  Water 
Street  was  transformed  from  a  dance  house  into  a 
mission  with  Jerry  in  charge.  That  was  the  begin- 
ning of  a  movement  that  has  worked  miracles  in  the 
slums  of  the  continent.  The  influence  of  the  mission 
has  been  marvellous.  One  night  old  John  Jaeger,  a 
drunken  Dutch  anarchist,  who  couldn't  speak  Eng- 
lish and  who  couldn't  read  any  language  whatever, 
staggered  into  Jerry's  mission.  Though  he  could  not 


WATER    STREET    MISSION  105 

understand  a  word  that  was  said,  he  was  converted. 
Soon  the  anarchist  opened  a  mission  of  his  own.  He 
called  it  the  Mission  of  the  Living  Waters,  and  it  was 
located  at  136  Christie  Street.  The  Mission  is  there 
yet  and  so  is  the  "  anarchist,"  now  one  of  the  best- 
known  mission  workers  in  New  York. 

One  night  John  H.  Wyburn,  a  young  man  who  had 
seen  better  days,  was  on  a  frightful  "  tear  "  with  one 
of  Jerry's  back-slidden  converts.  The  convert  sent 
Wyburn  around  to  "  strike "  Superintendent  Hadley 
for  a  loan  of  ten  dollars.  He  did  not  get  the  ten  dol- 
lars, but  he  "  got  salvation."  This  man  Wyburn  is 
now  acting  Superintendent  of  the  Water  Street 
Mission. 

Years  ago  a  dilapidated  drunken  tramp  printer, 
wearing  an  old  linen  duster,  staggered  into  the  Mc- 
Auley  Mission.  The  man  was  in  a  deplorable  condi- 
tion. The  duster  was  frozen  to  his  body.  His  feet 
were  almost  bare  on  the  snow  and  ice.  To-day  that 
dilapidated  creature  is  one  of  the  most  successful  slum 
workers  in  Canada,  and  Superintendent  of  the  Old 
Brewery  Mission  of  Montreal. 

Many  years  ago  Colonel  Henry  H.  Hadley  was  on 
one  of  his  tremendous  periodical  "  sprees."  He  had 
commanded  a  regiment  in  the  Civil  War  and  was  a 
man  of  ability,  but  rum  was  his  master.  After  gorg- 
ing himself  with  fifty-two  drinks  in  a  single  day,  he 
wandered  into  Jerry's  mission,  where  he  was  con- 
verted. To-day,  the  name  of  Henry  H.  Hadley  is 
known  wherever  rescue  missions  are  known. 

Then  there  was  "  old  John  Wood,"  a  sailor  who  was 
drummed  out  of  the  United  States  navy  on  account 
of  chronic  alcoholism.  One  dark  night  the  poor  sot 


106     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

wound  up  a  frightful  debauch  by  starting  down  to- 
wards the  East  River  to  drown  himself.  He  heard 
the  singing  in  "  old  Water  Street,"  went  in,  and  came 
out  a  new  man.  A  few  years  ago  this  John  Wood, 
superintendent  of  the  mission  of  the  Brooklyn  Navy 
Yard,  died  at  his  post,  and  is  remembered  as  the 
originator  of  Christian  Endeavor  work  in  the  navy 
of  the  United  States. 

One  night  many  years  ago,  Mrs.  E.  M.  Whittemore 
and  her  husband,  Sidney  Whittemore,  came  down  to 
Water  Street  Mission,  "  just  to  see  what  was  going 
on."  They  belonged  to  the  best  society  of  New  York 
and  wanted  to  find  some  new  sensation.  Both  were 
converted;  and  that  dark  night  was  the  beginning  of 
the  "  Door  of  Hope,"  which  now  has  rescue  missions 
in  nearly  every  State  in  the  Union,  and  most  of  the 
large  cities,  for  this  same  Mrs.  Whittemore  organised 
that  movement." 

Out  of  the  Water  Street  Mission  has  also  grown 
the  rescue  work  which  is  under  the  direction  of  the 
Methodist  Church  Extension  Society  in  the  City  of 
New  York.  This  work  is  located  on  the  Bowery. 
The  meetings  were  formerly  conducted  in  what  was 
known  as  "  Wesley  Hall,"  but  since  Mr.  Hadley's 
death  the  name  has  been  changed  to  "  Hadley  Hall." 
The  superintendent  in  charge  is  Rev.  John  Callahan, 
a  devoted  friend  of  Mr.  Hadley's  and  one  of  the  truest 
rescue  mission  workers  in  the  world.  As  a  matter  of 
fact  the  influence  of  the  McAuley  Mission  has  been 
world  wide. 

Concerning  his  call  to  Water  Street  Mr.  Hadley 
writes  as  follows : 

"On  May  30,   1886,  I  took  charge  of  the  Water 


WATER    STREET    MISSION  107 

Street  Mission.  Never  shall  I  forget  that  day!  After 
struggling  for  nearly  two  years  after  my  conversion, 
I  had  finally  gotten  into  a  profitable  business  with  an 
income  of  $2,500  a  year,  and  with  good  prospects  of 
a  permanent  future. 

"  I  considered  the  call  to  the  work  in  Water  Street 
the  most  important  a  man  could  have,  and  my  wife 
and  I  spent  many  days  in  prayer.  Strange  to  say,  we 
both  got  our  answer  reading  the  Scripture,  Isaiah  Iviii. 
3-12. 

"  Friends  of  the  Mission  decided  to  give  us  a  great 
send-off.  From  the  parlours  I  could  look  down  into 
the  room.  It  was  filled  with  well-dressed  people,  Mr. 
R.  Fulton  Cutting  presiding.  When  I  saw  the  crowd 
I  was  frightened.  I  went  into  my  bedroom  and 
dropped  on  my  knees  and  said : 

' '  Lord,  if  you  have  really  called  me  to  this  work, 
give  me  one  soul.' 

"  How  often  have  I  thought  of  that  prayer  since. 
I  could  as  well  have  had  a  score  of  souls.  The  meet- 
ing went  on.  At  the  close  I  gave  the  invitation, 
saying : 

'  Is  there  one  man  here  who  would  like  to  come 
to  Christ?  '  One,  and  only  one,  raised  his  hand.  The 
Lord  did  the  best  He  could,  according  to  my  faith. 
He  gave  me  the  biggest  bum  and  drunkard  in  the 
house.  He  sat  on  the  last  seat  by  the  door,  as  he  was 
too  drunk  to  get  any  further. 

"  One  of  my  friends  had  found  him  the  night  before 
in  a  stale  beer  dive  in  Mulberry  Bend,  and  had  asked 
him  to  come  down. 

" '  Give  me  fifteen  cents  and  I'll  come,'  said  he.  My 
friend  gave  him  the  fifteen  cents,  and  after  spending 


108     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

it  for  whiskey,  two  drinks  for  five  cents,  and  all  the 
rest  he  could  get,  he  came  in  very  drunk.  I  said: 

" '  If  there  are  any  needy  souls,  come  up  here.'  He 
started,  but  was  so  drunk  he  fell  to  the  floor.  Ready 
hands  helped  him  to  the  front.  He  was  a  fearful  look- 
ing object,  six  feet  four  inches  high,  weighing  260 
pounds,  and  had  on  only  two  garments,  such  as  they 
were,  an  old  pair  of  breeches  tied  around  him  with  a 
piece  of  clothes  line,  and  a  jumper,  both  too  short, 
there  being  a  wide  space  between  the  two  where  there 
was  nothing  but  the  bare  skin. 

"  The  ladies  gave  him  all  the  room  he  wanted  to 
kneel  in.  My  wife,  Mrs.  Sherwood,  our  missionary, 
and  also  Mrs.  Stephen  Merritt,  who  were  present, 
knelt  with  him  and  prayed.  Hundreds  of  times  have  I 
heard  him  tell  the  story  in  his  broad  Scotch  dialect: 
: '  I  came  in  drunk  and  I  went  out  sober,  and  the 
best  of  it  is,  I've  been  sober  ever  since.  Whatever 
prayer  it  was  I  made  that  night  I  don't  remember,  but 
the  Lord  heard  it,  and  the  best  of  it  is,  He  has  an- 
swered it  ever  since.  I  was  not  fit  to  sleep  in  a  bed 
that  night.  No  lodging  house  would  have  kept  me, 
so  I  went  to  Shinbone  Alley  in  Bleecker  Street  and 
took  the  soft  side  of  a  truck.  I  went  to  work  in  a  few 
days  carrying  a  hod.' 

"  He  was  known  at  that  time  as  '  Scottie  the  Bum.' 
Born  in  Glasgow,  he  was  a  drunkard  from  youth,  and 
before  he  was  seventeen  years  old  he  was  committed 
to  prison  for  drunkenness.  He  was  sent  to  America, 
as  so  many  drunkards  are,  and  wandered  all  over  the 
country  drinking  rum,  walking  ties  when  he  could  not 
ride  a  freight  train,  sinking  lower  and  lower  in  the 
clutches  of  whiskey,  until  he  was  found  by  my  friend. 


WATER    STREET    MISSION  109 

He  secured  work  at  carrying  a  hod.  He  joined  the 
Tile-layers  Helpers'  Union  after  he  got  work,  and  soon 
became  the  treasurer.  He  was  the  doorkeeper  in  the 
Central  Labor  Union  for  years  on  Sunday  afternoons. 
Finally  he  was  chosen  walking  delegate,  and  for  seven 
years  was  elected  every  six  months. 

"  He  formed  one  of  the  Board  of  Walking  Dele- 
gates of  the  Trades  Union  of  New  York.  '  Big 
Jim,'  as  he  came  to  be  called  in  those  days,  helped  set- 
tle some  of  the  biggest  strikes  in  New  York  City  by 
his  manly,  candid  truthfulness  and  hard  Scotch  com- 
mon sense.  He  was  finally  elected  Grand  Marshal  of 
the  Labor  Day  Parade,  and  rode  down  Broadway  on 
a  big  bay  horse  at  the  head  of  fifteen  thousand  of  the 
best  workmen  in  New  York.  He  married  a  Christian 
woman  from  the  Florence  Crittenton  Mission. 

"  Wishing  to  find  other  employment,  he  went  to 
work  for  the  City  and  Suburban  Homes  Company, 
and  from  a  humble  position  he  has,  by  his  sterling  in- 
tegrity, worked  his  way  up,  until  he  is  now  one  of 
the  superintendents,  having  a  lot  of  men  under  him 
and  many  houses  to  care  for.  He  also  has  a  home  of 
his  own." 

Instead  of  "  Scottie  the  Bum,"  or  "  Big  Jim,"  he 
has  been  known  and  loved  for  years  as  Mr.  J.  C. 
Edwards. 

Mr.  Hadley  was  always  more  than  generous  in  his 
appreciation  of  his  assistants,  and  concerning  his 
helpers  in  Water  Street  he  gave  this  testimony: 

"  I  have  been  unusually  blessed  with  co-workers 
since  I  came  here.  Mrs.  Sarah  Sherwood  was  with 
us  for  ten  years  after  we  came  to  Water  Street — - 
Mother  Sherwood,  as  we  all  called  her.  Probably  this 


110     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

woman  has  shaken  hands  with  more  drunkards  than 
any  other  woman  in  this  city.  She  was  of  a  distin- 
guished Connecticut  family.  Two  of  her  brothers  have 
been  governors  of  their  native  State. 

"  The  converts  of  the  Mission  who  knew  Mrs.  Sher- 
wood will  never  forget  her.  She  helped  to  bear  their 
sorrows,  and  to  share  their  joys.  They  all  leaned  on 
her  in  time  of  trouble,  and  backsliders  always  found 
in  her  a  willing  ear  and  a  heart  full  of  sympathy.  At 
the  same  time,  she  dug  them  out,  and  if  they  were 
living  on  false  hopes  she  was  quick  to  detect  it.  No 
one  could  more  lovingly  or  skilfully  uncover  a  liar 
or  a  fraud  than  she  could,  and  after  doing  so  no  one 
would  stand  by  them  more  lovingly  and  faithfully, 
helping  them  to  right  the  wrong.  Her  sweet  and 
gracious  presence  was  well  known  in  all  the  dens  and 
dives  about  here,  and  when  she  entered  a  saloon  or 
house  of  evil  resort  the  swearing  and  vile  talk  in- 
stantly ceased  and  the  barkeeper  would  not  wait  on 
customers  while  the  '  mission  lady '  was  present.  She 
procured  hundreds  of  dollars  from  the  merchants  in 
the  lower  part  of  the  city,  and  so  amiable  was  her 
manner  that  invitations  were  extended  to  her  to  come 
again,  and  she  was  not  slow  to  accept  them. 

"  Mr.  Franklin  Smith  was  also  with  us  all  this  time 
— a  tender,  modest,  lovable  man,  mighty  in  faith  and 
prayer.  He  never  knew  the  evils  of  drink,  but  sym- 
pathised deeply  with  those  who  did.  He  died  shortly 
after  Mrs.  Sherwood. 

"  Mrs.  Mary  W.  Bentley  was  also  a  missionary  for 
some  five  years.  She  lived  here,  and  her  love  and  faith 
for  lost  men  and  women  was  boundless.  I  never 
saw  her  out  of  patience.  She  was  drawn  to  men 


WATER    STREET   MISSION  111 

only  because  they  were  sinners  sinking  down  to  de- 
struction and  needed  a  friend.  She  was  a  great  suf- 
ferer for  months  before  her  death,  but  always  prayed 
for  us  to  the  last,  and  sent  messages  of  love  to  those 
whom  she  loved  and  had  led  to  Jesus. 

"  A  book  could  be  written  of  either  of  these  de- 
voted Christian  lives.  The  ladies  had  ample  means 
to  support  themselves,  but  chose  to  come  here  and 
work,  because  here  is  where  the  sinners  come,  and 
here  is  where  they  can  be  reached. 

"  Our  present  missionary,  Mrs.  Lida  M.  Lamont, 
our  faithful  and  tireless  friend,  has  been  with  us  for 
over  five  years.  My  beloved  wife  and  Mrs.  Lamont 
are  the  only  ladies  who  live  in  the  building. 

"  One  of  my  assistants  for  five  years  was  Mr.  Harry 
E.  Prentice,  a  redeemed  man  from  England,  who  about 
six  years  ago  went  into  business  life ;  but  he  still 
holds  his  connection  with  us,  and  often  leads  our 
meetings  on  Sunday  evenings. 

"  Our  present  assistant  is  Mr.  John  H.  Wyburn, 
who  was  saved  in  this  Mission,  while  very  drunk, 
many  years  ago.  Three  years  of  this  time  he  was 
Superintendent  of  the  Bowery  Mission,  and  we  are 
thankful  to  have  him  here  now,  and  we  trust  that  he 
will  remain  as  long  as  we  do." 

Special  mention  should  be  made  of  another  helper 
of  Mr.  Hadley's  in  the  person  of  the  pianist,  Mr. 
Squires,  a  salesman  in  Tiffany's  great  jewelry  estab- 
lishment ;  for  years  there  has  scarcely  been  a  mission 
service  held  that  he  has  not  presided  at  the  piano  in  a 
masterful  way. 

Out  from  this  Mission  with  such  a  leader  and  such 
a  band  of  consecrated  workers  has  gone  a  stream  of 


S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

influence  which  is  as  wide  as  the  world  in  its  sweep. 
S.  H.  Hadley  may  be  dead,  but  the  Scripture  is  ab- 
solutely true,  "  He  being  dead  yet  speaketh." 

One  of  the  features  of  Water  Street  Mission  is  the 
Thursday  evening  meeting,  when  there  is  a  great  feast 
spread  for  the  hungry.  This  is  made  possible  through 
the  generosity  of  John  S.  Huyler,  one  of  New  York's 
most  prominent  business  men,  trustee  of  the  Mission, 
and  one  of  the  best  friends  Mr.  Hadley  has  ever  had. 
The  following  description  was  given  of  the  Thursday 
night  service  in  one  of  the  newspapers: 

"  At  six  o'clock  the  room  was  full  and  after  seven 
there  was  not  an  empty  seat.  At  this  hour  half  a 
dozen  of  the  leader's  assistants  disappeared  and  in  a 
few  moments  re-entered,  bearing  aloft  large  wooden 
trays  piled  high  with  sandwiches.  Two  hundred  pairs 
of  eyes  brightened  instantly  and  two  hundred  pairs  of 
lips  grew  parched  with  anxiety.  They  were  the  most 
generous  sandwiches  that  the  mind  of  man  ever  con- 
ceived. The  sandwiches  disappeared  like  dew  before 
the  morning  sun.  Cup  after  cup  of  the  very  best 
coffee  was  drained  to  the  very  dregs.  The  men  then 
settled  back  with  an  air  of  comfort  after  they  had 
picked  the  last  crumbs  from  their  worn  knees  and  not 
a  single  man  left  the  room  when  the  leader  of  the  meet- 
ing opened  the  gospel  meeting.  All  this  time  an  un- 
assuming gentleman  had  occupied  a  seat  among  those 
on  the  platform.  He  it  was  who  had  provided  the 
supper  for  the  men,  and  who  does  it  every  Thursday 
night.  His  name  is  known  the  world  over,  but  no 
schoolgirl,  munching  Huyler's  chocolates  and  bon- 
bons, ever  enjoyed  them  as  much  as  those  poor  men 
the  sandwiches  and  coffee  which  his  generosity  had 
provided." 


XI 
FUNERALS    AT    WATER    STREET 

I  WAS  one  day  sitting  with  Mr.  Hadley  on  the 
piazza,  of  my  home  in  the  country.  He  was  read- 
ing a  New  York  paper  when  suddenly  he  said, 
dropping  the  paper  in  his  lap,  "  Can  I  send  a  telegram 
from  here  quickly  ? "  and  I  said,  "  Certainly."  He 
wrote  out  his  message  on  a  piece  of  paper  and  I  sent 
it  over  the  telephone  to  the  telegraph  office  in  the  near- 
by town.  He  had  read  in  the  paper  the  story  of  a  poor 
fallen  girl  who  had  come  to  the  end  of  her  sad  career 
and  without  friends  to  mourn  over  her  or  to  bury  her, 
she  had  been  sent  to  the  Morgue,  of  all  the  places  in 
the  world  the  most  desolate.  Tears  stood  in  the  eyes 
of  the  great  soul  winner  as  he  wrote  his  message.  It 
was  sent  to  one  of  his  assistants  in  New  York  and  was 
to  the  effect  that  the  body  of  the  poor  lost  girl  was  to 
be  taken  from  the  Morgue  and  carried  to  Water  Street. 
She  was  to  be  furnished,  at  the  expense  of  Mr.  Had- 
ley, with  a  coffin  and  a  shroud,  and  the  Mission 
Workers  were  asked  to  gather  around  her  poor  worn 
out  body  to  read  God's  Word,  sing  the  hymns  of  the 
church  and  cry  over  her  misspent  life.  This  was  the 
spirit  of  S.  H.  Hadley  always. 

He  used  frequently  to  make  his  way  through  the 
hospitals  of  New  York  City,  especially  in  the  wards 
where  the  poor  and  outcast  were  suffering,  and  when- 
ever he  found  one  who  was  near  the  end  and  was 


114     S.    H.    HADLEY   OF    WATER    STREET 

friendless,  he  left  special  instructions  that  he  was  to 
be  notified  when  their  death  occurred,  and  they  too 
would  be  carried  to  the  Mission  and  given  just  such  a 
burial  as  their  own  loved  ones  might  have  wished  had 
they  known  that  their  life  journey  was  ended. 

One  day  in  passing  through  a  hospital  the  following 
sad  experience  was  brought  to  his  attention.  It  was, 
however,  but  one  of  a  multitude  of  experiences  all  of 
which  always  filled  his  great  heart  with  anguish; 
nevertheless,  like  his  Master  he  went  on  to  do  the 
will  of  his  Father  and  delighted  to  spend  and  be 
spent  in  the  service  of  others. 

"  We  were  obliged,"  he  said,  "  to  go  through  the 
dead-house  belonging  to  Bellevue  Hospital  a  day  or 
so  ago.  A  friend  had  died  in  Bellevue  and  we  were 
going  to  bring  her  out  for  burial.  We  noticed  a  party 
of  women,  three  in  number,  who  were  evidently  look- 
ing for  a  relative  whom  they  hoped  yet  dreaded  to  find. 
There  was  no  mistaking  the  character  of  the  elder 
woman.  She  was  over  fifty,  and  of  undoubted  re- 
spectability. The  other  two  ladies  seemed  to  be  friends, 
but  we  felt  sure  this  was  a  mother  seeking  a  child. 
No  one  else  could  stay  so  long  in  that  dreadful  house 
of  death.  She  walked  through  the  morgue  and  looked 
into  the  faces  of  all  who  lay  there,  then  she  walked 
down  through  the  long,  low,  dead  house  which  is  built 
over  the  river.  But  little  idea  could  be  gained  of  this 
horrible  task  by  reading  this  article.  The  attendants 
were  very  polite,  and  rendered  all  the  aid  in  their 
power.  One  by  one  cloths  were  removed  until  she  had 
looked  carefully  at  all  the  faces.  Was  she  looking  for 
a  daughter?  Yes,  she  was.  She  was  almost  sure  the 
woman  whom  she  read  of,  who  had  committed  suicide, 


FUNERALS    AT   WATER    STREET    115 

was  her  daughter.  '  There  is  another  small  room,' 
said  the  attendant ;  '  just  stay  here,  madam,  a  moment,' 
and  taking  a  man  he  disappeared  into  another  build- 
ing. Pretty  soon  they  returned  carrying  between  them 
a  half-bent  form  covered  with  a  black  cloth.  As  soon 
as  the  cloth  was  removed  from  the  face  of  the  dead 
woman  a  shriek  went  up  that  the  writer  will  remem- 
ber to  his  dying  day.  '  Oh,  Mary !  Mary ! '  said  the 
poor  heart-broken  mother,  '  is  it  thus  I  meet  you  ?  Oh, 
my  God,  I  can't  bear  this.  Oh,  Mary,  Mary,  is  it 
possible  this  is  you ! '  And  so  she  went  on ;  and  with 
a  bursting  heart  she  tried  to  throw  herself  on  the  slab 
which  held  the  lifeless,  though  disfigured  body  of  her 
lost,  wayward  girl.  The  story  was  soon  learned.  It 
could  almost  be  told  in  one  word,  RUM.  Some  devil 
in  human  shape  had  taught  her  to  drink,  then  ruin  and 
disgrace  followed.  Then  despair  and  death  closed  the 
scene.  We  would  prefer,  though,  to  take  our  chances 
as  Mary  before  the  great  Judge,  a  thousand  times, 
than  the  wretch  who  sold  her  the  liquor." 

Experiences  like  this  were  common  with  this  dear 
servant  of  Christ. 

There  have  been  some  notable  funerals  at  Water 
Street ;  possibly  one  of  the  most  striking  was  held  in 
1892. 

BILLY  KELLY'S  FUNERAL 

In  the  big  room  of  the  Jerry  McAuley  Mission  at 
316  Water  Street  there  lay  in  state  the  body  of  Billy 
Kelly,  gambler,  faro  dealer,  barkeeper,  drunkard,  and 
all-around  sport,  reformed  a  year  before  his  death  and 
become  one  of  the  most  respected  members  of  the 
mission. 


116     S.    H.    HADLEY   OF   WATER    STREET 

The  hard  wooden  benches  in  the  little  building  were 
crowded  with  reformed  outcasts  and  outcasts  beyond 
all  hope  of  reform.  On  one  side  of  the  coffin  sat 
Billy's  three  children,  Florence,  Tiny,  and  William, 
Jr.  On  the  other  side  were  some  of  Kelly's  old  com- 
panions, among  them  the  gambler  Tom  Jolly,  with  his 
wife  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  "  The  "  Allen. 

More  than  once  during  the  brief  and  simple  cere- 
mony the  famous  dive  keeper  furtively  wiped  his  eyes 
and  coughed  with  suspicious  huskiness.  About  the 
coffin  were  wreaths  of  white  and  pink  roses,  while  on 
it  lay  a  great  mass  of  white  lilies. 

On  the  coffin  plate  was  inscribed  the  name  of  Wil- 
liam Kelly,  with  the  date  of  his  death  on  April  9,  1892, 
at  the  age  of  forty-seven  years. 

After  Mr.  Hadley  had  announced  that  the  funeral 
procession  would  start  from  the  Mission  at  12  o'clock 
noon,  and  the  interment  would  be  in  Long  Island  City, 
he  asked  for  remarks  from  those  who  were  friends  of 
the  dead  man.  "  Let's  hear  from  the  Captain,"  sug- 
gested someone,  and  in  response  a  short,  thick-set 
man,  whose  sunburned  face  terminated  in  a  bristly 
grey  beard,  arose  in  his  place,  and  spoke: 

"  I  remember  well  the  night  Billy  Kelly  first  came  in 
here  fourteen  months  ago,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  that 
trembled  slightly.  "  I  had  just  got  into  port  from  a 
long  voyage  and  had  come  into  the  dear  old  Mission. 
Billy  came  stumbling  in,  a  terrible  wreck  of  what 
must  have  been  a  fine-looking  man.  I  could  see  that 
he  was  on  the  edge  of  delirium  tremens.  He  asked 
if  he  could  get  some  soup  there.  I  told  him  that  he 
could  after  the  services.  '  I'm  hungry,'  he  says,  '  and 
I  haven't  a  cent.  For  the  last  week  I've  been  in  hell. 


FUNERALS    AT    WATER    STREET    117 

Some  don't  believe  in  hell,  but  I've  been  there,  been 
there  with  the  drink  on  me,  so  that  when  I  closed  my 
eyes  all  the  torture  of  a  man  dead  and  damned  was 
in  me.  God  help  me!  I  don't  dare  sleep  for  fear  of 
what  comes  on  me  when  I'm  asleep.  It's  three  days 
now  since  my  eyes  were  closed.' 

"  '  God  help  you,'  says  I.  '  Pray  to  Him.'  He  went 
forward  to  the  front,  and  I'll  never  forget  the  look 
on  his  face  when  he  kneeled.  '  Oh,  God ! '  he  says, 
'  give  me  sleep,  sleep,  only  sleep  and  rest  from  the  hell 
that's  in  me.'  We  all  prayed  for  him,  and  that  night 
he  slept.  After  that  he  gave  up  the  drink,  and  was 
one  of  us  until  death." 

There  were  other  remarks  from  members  of  the 
mission,  showing  how  the  dead  man  had  been  loved 
by  all  his  comrades,  and  at  the  end  Jim  Dixon,  a  re- 
formed sport  and  gambler,  got  up  on  his  feet. 

"  You  all  knew  Billy  when  he  was  in  the  mission," 
he  said.  "  You  know  how  good  a  man  he  was  when 
he  was  reformed.  But  I  knew  the  good  that  was  in 
him  when  he  was  at  his  worst.  Man  and  boy,  for 
twenty  odd  years,  I've  lived  with  him,  eaten  with  him, 
drank  and  gambled  and  starved  with  him.  He  was 
my  partner  through  thick  and  thin,  and  all  of  you 
who've  been  gamblers  and  drunkards  and  lived  up  and 
down  by  your  wits  know  what  that  means.  I've  seen 
him  when  he  was  in  luck  with  five  thousand  dollars 
in  his  pocket,  and  the  next  week  he  was  in  Bellevue 
with  the  blue  devils  at  his  throat.  When  he  got  out 
he  pawned  his  shoes  and  shirt  for  money  to  buy  a 
drink,  and  one  night  when  he  was  down  to  his  last  two 
dimes  I  saw  him  give  away  half  what  he  had  to  a  girl 
he  used  to  know  who  was  without  money.  Billy  would 


118     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

have  gone  without  dinner  or  bed  that  night  if  I  hadn't 
found  him.  That's  the  kind  of  a  man  he  was,  ready 
always  to  share  up  with  anyone  worse  off  than  him- 
self. When  he  joined  the  Mission  I'd  been  in  hard 
luck,  but  had  just  struck  a  job  dealing  faro.  I  used  to 
go  and  see  him,  but  he  wouldn't  drink  with  me. 
Finally  I  asked  him  what  was  up  with  him,  and  he 
said,  '  Jim,  I've  joined  the  Mission,  and  I'm  a  better 
man  for  it.  I  want  you  to  come  in  too.'  Well,  I 
thought  about  it  and  six  months  ago  I  joined.  That's 
one  of  the  many  things  that  Billy  did  for  me.  But 
what  I  remember  in  him  is  that  when  he  was  in  the 
Mission  and  I  was  still  a  gambler  and  drinker,  he 
never  went  back  on  me.  Billy  and  I  were  partners  to 
the  end." 

After  the  speaking  was  over  some  hymns  were  sung 
and  the  meeting  broke  up.  "  The  "  Allen,  who  had 
declined  to  speak  in  the  meeting,  was  walking  out 
when  he  caught  sight  of  "  Tiny "  Kelly,  the  dead 
man's  thirteen-year-old  daughter.  The  ex-dive  keeper 
walked  up  and  put  his  hand,  which  trembled  slightly, 
on  the  girl's  shoulder. 

"  My  child,"  he  said,  "  your  father  was  a  man  to 
remember.  It  took  better  than  me  to  save  him  from 
himself,  but  if  I  couldn't  do  for  him,  perhaps  I  can  do 
for  his  children.  If  ever  you  are  in  need,  you  or  your 
brother  or  sister,  come  to  me.  While  I  have  anything 
Billy  Kelly's  children  can  call  on  me. 

"  Billy  Kelly,"  continued  "  The  "  Allen,  turning  to 
the  crowd  which  had  collected,  "  was  one  of  the  few 
men  I  knew  that  I  could  trust.  My  life  hasn't  made 
me  trustful  of  men.  For  four  years  I  haven't  walked  a 
block  in  the  street  in  company  with  any  man.  I  go 


FUNERALS    AT    WATER    STREET    119 

my  way  alone,  and  other  men  can  go  theirs.  But  I 
didn't  feel  so  towards  Billy.  I  knew  the  house  where 
he  was  born  down  on  Carmine  street,  near  Bleecker. 
I  knew  the  boy  and  the  man,  and  when  he  came  to 
work  for  me  I've  been  away  and  left  $20,000  in  his 
hands  without  fear  many  a  time.  Gambler  and  sport 
and  drunkard  he  was,  but  he  never  was  accused  of  a 
crime,  and  through  his  life  he  was  clean-handed.  Then 
he  took  to  the  drink.  I  tried  to  stop  him.  He  was 
working  for  me  in  Bleecker  street  then.  The  drink 
had  a  hold  on  him,  and  he  couldn't  stop.  I  had  to  dis- 
charge him,  but  we  were  always  friends,  and  I  was 
glad  when  Billy  joined  the  Mission  and  reformed." 

As  he  finished  speaking  his  voice  was  uncertain  and 
tears  were  in  his  eyes. 


FROM   GUTTER   TO   GLORY 

Many  strange  and  pathetic  scenes  have  been  wit- 
nessed in  the  old  McAuley  Mission  down  in  Water 
Street,  in  the  old  Fourth  Ward  of  New  York  City, 
but  perhaps  nothing  could  better  illustrate  the  charac- 
ter of  this  work  for  saving  poor  lost  souls  than  what 
took  place  some  little  time  ago  in  that  old  haven. 
On  stools  in  front  of  the  platform  rested  a  coffin,  a 
very  respectable  one,  too,  with  three  massive  silver 
handles  on  each  side.  A  floral  anchor  lay  in  the  cen- 
tre, and  at  the  foot  was  a  sheaf  of  wheat.  Inside  the 
coffin  lay  the  body  of  "  Old  Pop  Lloyd."  The  face 
was  peaceful  and  serene ;  there  was  no  indication  of 
the  tempestuous  life  through  which  he  had  passed, 
but  the  look  of  calm  repose  spoke  in  eloquent  tones, 
"  Though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 


120     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

death,  I  will  fear  no  evil ;  for  Thou  art  with  me ;  Thy 
rod  and  Thy  staff  they  comfort  me."  On  the  platform 
was  W.  W.  Bowdish,  pastor  of  old  John  Street  Meth- 
odist Church,  "  Old  Pop's "  pastor ;  also  the  Rev. 
Stephen  Merritt,  a  dear  friend  of  the  Mission.  The 
chapel  was  filled  with  mourners,  converts  of  the  Mis- 
sion mostly.  They  were  a  grand  set  of  men  who  had 
learned  to  love  "  Old  Pop,"  and  nearly  everyone  had 
come  in  the  place  just  as  he  had,  drunkards  and  home- 
less outcasts. 

Many  years  ago  "  Pop  Lloyd  "  came  into  the  Mis- 
sion one  night  and  took  a  seat  on  the  back  bench.  He 
was  72.  years  old,  covered  with  rags  and  dirt  and 
vermin,  bent  nearly  double,  and  had  not  slept  in  a  bed 
for  weeks. 

When  the  invitation  was  given  to  those  who  wished 
to  seek  the  Saviour  in  the  pardon  of  their  sins,  Mrs. 
Sarah  Sherwood,  the  missionary,  spoke  to  him  and 
invited  him  forward.  He  asked  her  if  she  thought 
there  was  any  hope  for  the  worst  man  in  New  York. 
She  said,  "  Yes ;  whosoever  would  might  come."  He 
came  and  was  soundly  converted  to  God.  From  that 
night  he  never  touched  whiskey  or  tobacco,  which  for 
years  had  been  his  chief  articles  of  diet. 

"  Old  Pop  "  had  been  a  great  character  in  his  day. 
He  was  born  on  the  high  seas,  and  continued  to  rove 
them  most  all  his  early  life,  and  once  had  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  a  pretty  successful  buccaneer.  He  was 
once  transported  to  Van  Diemen's  Land  for  ten  years, 
and  while  in  Australia  was  to  be  hung  for  murder, 
but  made  his  escape.  He  had  been  quite  well-to-do, 
and  sailed  his  own  vessel  out  of  this  port. 

For  the  last  three  years  of  his  life  he  could  do  noth- 


FUNERALS    AT   WATER    STREET    121 

ing,  and  was  a  charge  on  the  Mission ;  kind  friends, 
with  the  aid  of  John  Street  Church,  contributing  to 
his  support.  He  had  drunk  so  much  bad  rum  his 
vocal  chords  were  burnt  out  and  he  could  scarcely 
make  himself  understood,  but  he  would  often  give 
his  testimony  in  pantomime,  stooping  down  low  to 
show  how  the  devil  had  him  bent  over  when  he  came 
in  the  Mission,  and  then  raising  himself  up  erect  to 
show  how  Christ  took  the  load  off  a  man's  back  and 
soul. 

At  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning  he  would  come  in 
the  Mission  and  remain  there  all  day.  They  would  take 
him  down  three  square  meals  each  day,  as  his  limbs 
were  too  weak  to  carry  him  upstairs.  Many  a  time 
has  the  writer  seen  him  give  his  meal  to  some  poor 
tramp  who  had  slipped  in  the  door,  much  as  a  stray 
cat  would  do,  looking  for  something  to  eat.  No  mat- 
ter who  they  were,  "  Pop  "  would  share  his  meal  with 
them  if  they  were  hungry. 

A  few  evenings  before  his  death  he  arose  with  great 
difficulty  and  said,  though  he  felt  unworthy,  he  could 
say  God  was  keeping  him. 

COLONEL    ATKINSON 

Here  is  Mr.  Hadley's  story  of  the  Colonel: 
"  He  was  without  doubt  the  most  thorough-paced 
tramp  that  ever  came  into  our  old  Mission,  where 
the  lost  congregate  in  such  numbers.  No  pen  can 
adequately  describe  him,  but  we  may  be  able  to  give  a 
faint  idea  of  how  he  looked.  He  was  over  six  feet 
tall  and  sixty  years  old,  but  he  looked  a  hundred.  His 
beard  was  a  dirty  grey  and  a  foot  long.  His  hair,  the 
same  colour,  hung  down  his  back  for  a  like  length.  His 


122     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

eyes  were  bleared  and  the  hue  of  his  face  showed  that 
water  and  he  had  long  been  strangers.  He  had  on  a 
ragged  old  overcoat,  probably  picked  out  of  some  ash 
barrel,  and  fastened  with  a  nail ;  an  old  coat  and  vest 
completed  his  wardrobe.  Of  course,  he  had  neither 
a  shirt  nor  undershirt.  His  trousers  were  simply  in- 
describable ;  they  consisted  of  holes  tied  up  with  strings 
and  a  little  cloth  here  and  there.  On  his  feet  were 
pieces  of  carpet  wrapped  up  with  strings. 

"  I  had  known  him  for  years  as  a  common  beggar. 
It  was  thirteen  years  ago  last  June  when  he  came  to 
see  me   one  Sunday  night,  and  he  stood  up  for  prayer 
in  the  middle  of  the   service.     Peering  forward,  he 
asked  if  I  was  present,  and  when  I  said,  '  Yes/  he 
said,  '  Mr.  Hadley,  pray  for  me.     I  am  contrite.'    At 
the   invitation   he   came   up   with  twenty   others   and 
prayed  like  a  man  in  dead  earnest.     When  we  rose 
from  our  knees  he  stood  up  and  said,  '  Well,  I  am 
saved !    There  is  no  doubt  about  it.'    At  the  close  of 
the  service  he  put  his  arm  around  my  neck  and  said : 
"  '  Brother  Hadley,  what  ye  going  to  give  me  ?  ' 
"  '  Oh,'  said  I,  '  you  will  get  a  night's  lodging.' 
"'Yes/  said  he,  'that's  right;   what  else?' 
"  '  I  will  give  you  a  quarter   for  your  breakfast/ 
said  I. 

"  '  That's  right/  said  he  again,  '  that's  right.  I  al- 
ways knowed  you  was  a  Christian/  and  with  his  quar- 
ter and  a  ticket  for  bed,  he  tottered  off. 

"  As  he  left  me  he  said,  '  I'll  come  every  night.'  '  Oh, 

don't/  I  said,  '  just  come  occasionally.'    But  he  said 

again,  '  Yes,  Brother  Hadley,  I'll  come  every  night/ 

"  Who  was  this  man ;   this  finished  work  of  Satan's 

cruel  power?     He  was   from  one  of  the  best  Ohio 


FUNERALS    AT    WATER    STREET    123 

families ;  from  a  wealthy,  prosperous  Christian  home. 
After  college  he  studied  law  in  the  office  of  Edwin  M. 
Stanton,  the  great  War  Secretary  under  Lincoln.  He 
married  and  began  to  practise  law,  but  in  college  he 
had  learned  to  drink  whiskey.  He  entered  the  army 
at  the  outbreak  of  the  war,  served  through  that  fear- 
ful struggle  with  credit,  and  was  mustered  out  a 
colonel  of  cavalry  in  an  Illinois  regiment,  but  a  con- 
firmed drunkard.  He  tried  to  struggle  against  that 
deadly  habit  which  had  securely  fastened  itself  upon 
him,  but  it  was  useless.  At  last,  when  home  was 
destroyed  and  wife  and  children  gone,  he  became  ut- 
terly discouraged.  He  came  to  New  York,  assumed 
another  name,  never  went  near  the  post  office,  and 
ultimately  became  a  common  beggar  on  the  streets. 
For  over  a  quarter  of  a  century  he  had  been  a  con- 
firmed drunkard. 

"  This  was  the  man  who  came  up  for  prayers  at  the 
Water  Street  Mission.  He  was  on  hand  early  the 
next  night,  and  when  the  invitation  was  given  he 
came  up  with  the  rest,  and  after  praying  very  unctu- 
ously rose  up  and  said  he  was  saved — sure,  this  time! 
He  tried  to  put  his  arm  around  me  again,  but  I  re- 
pelled him  with  much  more  vigour  than  grace,  I  fear. 
I  pointed  him  to  the  door. 

'  Do  you  mean  it? '  said  he. 

" '  If  you  linger  much  longer/  said  I,  '  you'll  see  if 
I  mean  it.' 

"  He  went  slowly  out  cursing  me  and  the  Mission 
and  everybody  else,  and  swearing  he  would  die  in  the 
street  rather  than  come  in  again. 

"  I  had  been  sorely  tried  that  night.  I  had  to  put  out 
three  longshoremen,  who  came  in  drunk  looking  for 


124     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

a  fight,  and  I  was  clearly  a  backslider.  My  heart 
smote  me  as  I  saw  the  miserable,  hopeless  figure  go 
out  into  the  night.  I  went  to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep. 
I  could  think  of  nothing  else,  pray  for  nothing  else. 
I  felt  he  must  be  saved  or  I  would  be  lost. 

"  Two  weeks  from  that  day  we  had  a  monthly  meet- 
ing of  rescue  workers.  Our  speaker  had  disappointed 
us,  and  someone  said,  '  Call  on  Brother  Hadley.'  I 
said,  '  Yes,  I  have  something  to  say  to-day,'  and  with 
shame  and  weeping  I  told  them  about  the  old  Colonel 
and  how  I  had  treated  him.  While  I  spoke  it  seemed 
as  if  the  Holy  Ghost  fell  on  us  all.  No  one  said 
'  pray,'  but  all  fell  on  their  knees.  They  prayed  for 
the  Colonel  and  they  prayed  for  me,  that  God  would 
deliver  my  soul.  While  they  prayed  the  light  broke. 
'  Get  up,'  said  I,  '  you  need  not  pray  any  more.' 
They  gathered  around  me  and  said,  '  Oh,  Brother 
Hadley,  have  you  got  your  answer?'  'I  have,'  said 
I,  as  I  wrung  their  hands.  I  hastened  to  the  elevated 
road  and  came  down  to  the  Mission,  and  there  on  the 
back  bench  sat  the  Colonel.  It  was  my  turn  now,  and 
I  put  my  arms  around  his  neck  and  burst  into  tears. 

"  I  got  him  a  beefsteak,  bread,  butter,  potatoes  and 
coffee,  and  he  ate  like  a  famished  animal.  I  got  a  tub 
of  hot  water,  a  bar  of  soap  and  plenty  of  towels  and 
clean  clothes,  and  with  the  hands  that  pen  these  lines 
I  washed  this  poor  outcast.  I  dressed  him  from  head 
to  foot  and  took  him  over  across  the  street  to  the 
barber's,  and  soon  his  long  hair  and  beard  disappeared. 
He  stayed  to  the  meeting  and  came  forward ;  but  how 
changed !  His  whole  frame  trembled  with  emotion 
and  tears  fell  from  his  eyes  to  the  floor  as  he  cried, 
'  O  Lord,  if  it  ain't  too  late,  forgive  this  lost  sinner !  ' 


FUNERALS    AT    WATER    STREET    125 

"  For  six  nights  this  was  repeated,  and  on  Saturday 
night  he  arose  at  the  close  of  our  service,  and  said 
with  heaven  in  his  face,  '  Oh,  Brother  Hadley,  I  am 
saved.'  I  said,  '  I  believe  you/  and  then  we  did  have 
a  hug. 

"  From  that  instant  the  old  beggar  tramp  was  turned 
into  a  child  of  God.  He  fairly  loathed  rum  and  all 
its  works.  God  restored  to  him  his  intellect,  which 
was  so  sadly  impaired ;  his  youth  returned,  and  he 
became  a  tall,  dignified,  handsome  Christian  gentle- 
man. 

"  Thousands  have  heard  him,  during  the  last  thirteen 
years,  tell  in  the  most  convincing  manner  how  Jesus 
had  reached  down  and  saved  him  and  kept  him.  For 
some  time  past  his  health  had  been  failing,  and  at  last 
we  put  him  in  the  Presbyterian  Hospital.  On  Febru- 
ary 28  he  went  to  see  Jesus,  whom  he  loved  so  well. 
He  was  buried  from  our  dear  old  Water  Street 
Mission. 

" '  For  I  will  be  merciful  to  their  unrighteousness, 
and  their  sins  and  their  iniquities  will  I  remember  no 
more.'  HEBREWS  viii.  12. " 

I  knew  the  Colonel  intimately.  "  I  think  I  never  saw 
a  nobler  specimen  of  manhood.  "  Tell  us,"  I  said  to 
him  one  evening,  "  about  your  old  life  and  your  new 
experience."  Straightening  himself  up,  he  said,  "  Two 
words  will  describe  them  both.  The  old  life  was  hell; 
the  new  life  is  heaven." 

The  funeral  services  of  Harry  McQuillan,  one  of 
the  Cranest  of  the  Crane  in  the  army  of  old  England, 
Harry  McQuillan,  who  won  the  Victoria  Cross,  were 
held  in  December,  1904,  at  the  dear  old  Mission. 

He   enlisted   when   a  young  man   in  the   Seventy- 


126     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF   WATER    STREET 

seventh  Prince  of  Wales  Regiment,  belonging  to  the 
Second  Brigade,  Light  Division,  under  command  of 
General  Sir  George  Brown,  in  the  Crimean  War ;  took 
part  in  the  battles  of  the  Alma,  the  capture  of  Bala- 
klava,  and  the  battle  of  Inkermann,  the  siege  and  storm 
of  Sebastopol.  He  was  brought  under  special  notice 
of  the  Commander  in  Chief,  Lord  Raglan,  for  bravery 
on  the  field,  and  on  returning  to  England  was  brought 
to  the  notice  of  Her  Majesty,  Queen  Victoria,  at  Al- 
dershot.  He  was  sent  to  Australia  and  from  there  to 
India  to  suppress  the  Mutiny,  where,  in  1857,  Brother 
McQuillan  was  present  at  Cawnpur,  Lucknow,  at  the 
capture  of  Lucknow,  and  also  at  the  siege  of  Delhi. 
He  stood  guard  at  the  famous  well  of  Cawnpur, 
where  some  375  women  and  children  were  thrown  after 
their  butchery  by  the  savages. 

For  years  he  had  been  known  as  "  Old  Harry  "  on 
the  Bowery,  sleeping  in  hallways,  trucks,  parks,  for 
months,  and  on  a  supper  night  came  into  the  mission 
and  heard  that  Jesus  could  save  a  drunkard,  and  he 
gave  his  heart  to  the  only  one  who  could  save  him,  and 
for  many  years  led  a  good  Christian  life,  and  died  in 
the  Methodist  Hospital,  Brooklyn.  There  was  no  vol- 
ley for  the  hero,  over  his  grave,  but  his  comrades  in 
the  new  life  stood  around  the  grave,  lifting  up  their 
voices  in  song  and  praise  and  prayer,  for  he  had  won 
even  a  greater  victory  in  his  latter  years  than  he  did 
on  the  battlefield;  conquered  through  the  grace  and 
strength  of  Jesus,  the  appetite  and  passion  of  the  life 
of  sin. 


XII 
AT    NORTKFIELD    AND    WINONA 

SH.  HADLEY  was  devoted  to  D.  L.  Moody, 
and  he  had  the  entire  confidence  of  this  dis- 
•  tinguished  evangelist,  who  rarely  made  a 
mistake  in  his  estimate  of  men,  and  who  never  lost 
an  opportunity  to  say  a  good  word  concerning  the 
greatest  rescue  mission  worker  of  his  generation.  He 
has  been  present  at  almost  every  Northfield  Confer- 
ence for  the  past  ten  or  twelve  years.  Great  Bible 
teachers  might  interest  the  Northfield  audience;  S.  H. 
Hadley  always  thrilled  them.  He  was  usually  given 
the  Round  Top  meeting,  and  it  was  here  that  he  was 
always  at  his  best.  Stories  of  remarkable  conversion 
he  was  always  ready  to  tell,  but  he  uniformly  closed 
with  his  own  testimony,  and  never  lost  an  opportunity 
to  tell  how  Jesus  had  saved  him  and  through  the 
many  years  had  graciously  kept  him. 

After  D.  L.  Moody's  death,  his  interest  seemed  to 
deepen  in  the  work  which  was  carried  on  by  Mr. 
William  R.  Moody,  and  he  repeatedly  said :  "  I  must 
do  all  I  can  for  Will ;  he  has  a  heavy  load  to  carry, 
and  if  by  going  to  Northfield  I  can  lighten  it  in  the 
least,  I  feel  called  upon  to  go." 

He  usually  came  from  Northfield  to  Winona,  and 
from  the  very  first  Conference  to  the  one  held  a  year 
ago,  in  1905,  he  was  an  honoured  speaker.  Great 
theologians,  wonderful  expositors  of  the  Word  of 

127 


128     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

God,  successful  evangelists  and  preachers  of  renown 
might  be  announced,  but  whenever  it  was  known  that 
S.  H.  Hadley  was  to  speak  the  people  with  one  ac- 
cord rushed  to  hear  him.  The  hymn  he  loved  to  sing 
at  Winona  was  "  Oh,  It  Is  Wonderful,"  and  it  was 
unique  to  see  the  staid,  conservative  Christians  sing- 
ing this  song  over  and  over  under  his  strange  leader- 
ship. One  evening  when  F.  B.  Meyer  was  present 
as  speaker,  Mr.  Hadley  led  the  congregational  singing 
by  beating  time  with  his  cane,  and  the  people  sang 
until  the  building  seemed  to  echo  and  re-echo  with 
the  music. 

One  day  at  Winona  he  was  in  attendance  upon  a 
ministerial  conference.  The  ministers  were  trying  to 
decide  what  was  essential  on  the  part  of  a  minister  in 
order  that  he  should  be  well  qualified  to  preach.  It 
was  finally  decided  that  a  knowledge  of  Greek  was 
exceedingly  helpful.  Mr.  Hadley  paid  the  closest  of 
attention,  and  just  as  the  meeting  was  about  to  ad- 
journ, he  rose  slowly  and  said :  "  See  here,  where  do 
I  come  in?  I  do  not  know  one  Greek  letter  from  an- 
other, and  yet  I  can  preach  as  good  a  sermon  as  any 
of  you,  and  a  good  deal  better  than  some  of  you.  This 
discussion  makes  me  sick,"  he  said  with  a  smile.  "  It 
is  not  essential  that  you  should  know  Greek,  but  you 
should  know  the  Lord.  Why,  brethren,"  said  he,  "  I 
heard  of  an  old  man  in  the  South  who  preached  a  ser- 
mon from  the  text  of  Scripture,  '  He  that  is  not  with 
me,  is  against  me ;  and  he  that  gathereth  not  with  me, 
scattereth  abroad,'  and  because  he  could  not  read  he 
quoted  it  incorrectly,  '  He  that  is  not  with  me,  is 
against  me,  and  he  that  gathereth  not  with  me, 
scratcheth  a  board.' "  He  said  the  old  preacher  went 


AT    NORTHFIELD    AND    WINONA     129 

on  describing  how  if  any  man  should  reject  Jesus 
Christ  he  would  have  to  scratch  a  board  all  through 
eternity;  told  how  he  would  get  slivers  in  his  fingers 
until  they  were  sore  and  festered,  and  yet  he  would 
have  to  go  on  scratching.  When  it  was  over  the 
mourners'  bench  was  filled  with  seekers.  "  More,"  he 
said,  "  I  doubt  not  than  many  of  you  preachers  ever 
have  had  through  all  of  your  ministry."  Shouting 
with  laughter,  every  minister  present  decided  that  S. 
H.  Hadley  had  gotten  the  best  of  them,  and  that  after 
all  the  secret  of  preaching  was  to  know  Christ. 

We  have  always  observed  his  birthday  at  .Winona, 
August  2.J,  Assisted  by  his  special  friends  in  rescue 
mission  work — Harry  Monroe,  Melvin  Trotter,  John 
Callahan  and  W.  M.  Bruce — from  time  to  time  dur- 
ing the  Conference  he  conducted  great  rescue  mission 
services.  The  crowds  attending  these  services  were 
the  largest  of  any  during  the  entire  Conference.  But 
when  the  27th  day  of  August  came,  his  rescue  mission 
friends,  the  ministers  present,  all  the  people  on  the 
grounds  and  the  near-by  city  of  Warsaw,  delighted  to 
do  him  honour. 

Every  year  he  would  tell  the  story  of  his  conversion, 
and  just  when  the  time  seemed  opportune  during  his 
testimony  it  was  my  privilege  to  say  that  I  believed 
the  time  had  come  when  we  should  make  him  a  birth- 
day offering,  for  Water  Street  Mission,  and  at  the 
suggestion  money  would  literally  be  showered  upon 
him.  Hundreds  of  people  would  pass  by  attempting 
to  shake  his  hand,  but  he  was  wise  enough  to  know 
that  he  would  have  more  than  his  pockets  full  of 
money,  so  he  would  hold  his  hat  with  both  hands  and 
sing  as  the  people  passed,  "  Oh,  It  Is  Wonderful." 


130     S.   H.    HADLEY   OF   WATER    STREET 

The  service  went  on  increasing  in  enthusiasm  until  the 
hat  was  full  of  money,  and  it  was  always  a  question  as 
to  who  was  the  happier,  S.  H.  Hadley  or  the  people 
who  gave  to  him  on  this  occasion.  Said  a  distin- 
guished preacher  at  the  close  of  one  of  these  birthday 
meetings,  "  I  now  understand  what  it  means  to  be  a 
'  hilarious  giver.' " 

The  Conference  of  1906  will  be  held  without  him. 
He  is  in  the  presence  of  the  King,  but  so  long  as  the 
present  management  is  in  control  the  2/th  day  of 
August  will  be  observed  as  S.  H.  Hadley's  birthday 
service  and  someone  from  Water  Street  will  be  pres- 
ent to  tell  of  him,  "  Who  being  dead,  yet  speaketh." 

Every  summer  for  the  past  seven  years  at  the 
Winona  Bible  Conference  six  distinguished  rescue 
missionaries  have  met  together  to  confer  about  their 
work,  to  pray  for  the  outcast,  and  to  give  their  faithful 
testimonies  not  only  concerning  their  own  conversion, 
but  the  salvation  of  hundreds  and  thousands  of  others 
lost  and  ruined  like  themselves,  who  have  found  the 
Saviour. 

These  missionaries  were: 

S.  H.  Hadley,  New  York  City. 

Harry  Monroe,  Chicago,  111. 

Melvin  Trotter,  Grand  Rapids,  Mich. 

W.  M.  Bruce,  Louisville,  Ky. 

J.  P.  Callahan,  New  York  City. 

W.  V.  Wheeler,  Indianapolis,  Ind. 

I  have  written  to  these  missionaries  asking  them  to 
write  me  a  line  concerning  S.  H.  Hadley,  and  they 
have  responded  as  follows : 

"  One  of  the  greatest  blessings  that  ever  came  into 
my  life  was  my  first  meeting  with  Brother  Hadley  a 


S.    II.    IIADLEY  SPEAKING  AT  WIXOXA. 


AT    NORTHFIELD    AND    WINONA    131 

number  of  years  ago,  at  a  Christian  Worker's  Conven- 
tion in  Chicago.  The  gathering  was  not  large,  so 
those  in  attendance  had  a  splendid  opportunity  of  per- 
sonal acquaintance  and  fellowship. 

"As  the  days  were  given  to  rehearsal  of  Christian 
work,  and  discussion  of  ways  and  means  of  doing  the 
same,  one  could  easily  get  a  glimpse  into  the  inner  life 
of  those  engaged  in  the  rescue  of  the  lost.  At  the  head 
of  all  those  most  interested  and  whose  soul  was  aflame 
with  love  for  his  fellowmen,  stood  dear  Brother  Had- 
ley.  As  he  spoke  to  the  audience,  his  face  bathed  in 
tears,  his  voice  tender  and  sweet,  he  touched  them  with 
a  love  divine  and  created  within  them  a  great  desire 
to  possess  the  same  passion  for  souls  which  was  so 
mightily  his. 

"  One  had  to  stand  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  him  in 
his  pleadings  with  the  lost  to  appreciate  how  real 
Christ  was  to  Him  and  how  completely  he  lived  upon 
the  Word  of  God.  It  was  my  great  privilege  to  see 
him,  as  by  appointment  from  this  convention  three  of 
us  held  a  service  in  the  country  jail!  He  began  by 
inviting  the  men  to  come  to  him  when  released.  He 
said:  'Now,  I'll  give  you  a  password;  when  you 
come  use  it :  if  you  are  hungry,  I'll  feed  you ;  if  you 
need  clothes,  I'll  provide  you  these,  and  if  you  need  a 
friend,  come  to  me.'  At  the  invitation  a  great  many 
thronged  to  the  altar  to  accept  Christ. 

"  He  lived  and  practised  his  favourite  text,  '  And  the 
servant  of  the  Lord  must  not  strive ;  but  be  gentle 
unto  all  men,  apt  to  teach,  patient  in  meekness,  in- 
structing those  that  oppose  themselves ;  if  God  perad- 
venture  will  give  them  repentance  to  acknowledging  of 
the  truth,  and  that  they  may  recover  themselves  out  of 


132     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

the  snare  of  the  devil,  who  are  taken  captive  by  him  at 
his  will.'  1 1  Tim.  ii.  24-26.  Also,  '  But  love  ye  your 
enemies  and  do  good,  and  lend,  hoping  for  nothing 
again,  and  your  reward  shall  be  great,  and  ye  shall  be 
the  children  of  the  Highest;  for  He  is  kind  unto  the 
unthankful  and  to  the  evil.'  St.  Luke  vi.  35. 

"  Love  and  kindness  stood  out  in  bold  relief,  affect- 
ing alike  the  Christian,  whose  peace  was  made  with 
God,  and  the  weary  sin-sick  man  who  had  come  to 
believe  no  one  cared  for  his  soul  until  he  heard  and 
met  this  true  ambassador  of  the  most  High.  How  I 
thank  God  for  meeting  and  working  with  this  man  of 
God,  whose  wonderful  life  has  been  and  is  a  constant 
inspiration  to  me,  not  only  to  love  God  with  a  truer 
devotion  and  do  His  will  more  perfectly,  but  to  seek 
more  diligently  the  lost.  Thank  God  for  my  fellow- 
ship with  Him. 

"JOHN  CALLAHAN." 

"  CHICAGO,  April  25,  1906. 

"  I  am  very  happy  to  give  my  impressions  of  our 
beloved  Brother  Hadley.  The  I3th  chapter  of  First 
Corinthians  has  always  been  a  gem  of  rare  beauty  to 
me.  I  have  read  commentaries  upon  it,  but  never  fully 
understood  its  interpretation  until  I  met  S.  H.  Hadley 
at  a  convention  of  Christian  workers  at  Tremont 
Temple,  in  Boston,  November,  1892.  And  while 
others  may  wonder  at  the  secret  of  his  marvellous  suc- 
cess, I  discovered  on  that  occasion  that  he  possessed  a 
passion  born  of  God  for  souls  that  equipped  him  for 
what  has  proved  a  most  remarkable  ministry. 

"  Like  his  Master,  he  loved  everybody,  and  more 
particularly  he  seemed  to  be  in  heaven  when  on  his 


AT    NORTHFIELD   AND    WINONA    133 

knees  with  some  poor  crushed  sinner  telling  the 
precious  story  of  how  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to 
heal  the  broken-hearted  and  bind  up  their  wounds. 
Hadley  was  what  might  be  called  in  the  business  world 
a  plunger.  He  believed  that  none  had  fallen  so  low 
but  that  the  '  precious  blood  of  Jesus  '  could  cleanse 
and  purify  their  lives.  When  others  might  be  dis- 
posed to  pass  upon  some  poor  broken-down  bum  or 
thief,  Hadley  believed  there  was  nothing  too  hard  for 
the  Lord  and  would  lift  and  lift  and  lift,  and  follow 
the  wayward  with  prayer  and  acts  of  kindness  to  the 
end,  and  then  stand  by  the  open  grave  like  Jesus  did 
of  old  and  weep  because  he  could  do  no  more. 

"  Brother  Hadley  was  one  of  the  most  transparent 
men  I  have  ever  known.  Every  moment  of  his  life 
he  was  conscious  of  the  presence  of  Jesus,  in  whom 
he  lived  and  moved  and  had  his  being.  While  an  en- 
thusiast, he  believed  in  bringing  things  to  pass.  He 
was  wonderfully  sane  and  never  was  diverted  by  men 
or  issues  from  the  sweet  simple  story  of  how  Jesus 
saved  him,  a  poor  dying  sinner. 

"As  a  rescue  mission  worker  he  was  a  genius,  and 
his  power  of  manipulating  the  lives  of  men  who  live 
in  what  is  known  as  the  slum  district  of  our  cities  was 
a  marvel.  '  The  love  of  God  '  shed  abroad  in  his  heart 
gave  him  a  magnetism  that  always  made  him  attractive 
whether  in  the  slums  of  New  York  praying  with  a 
broken-down  bum,  or  in  some  swell  uptown  church 
telling  the  people  on  easy  street  how  the  good  Lord 
saved  him. 

"  He  was  always  natural.  While  perhaps  few  men 
in  his  day  have  been  more  highly  honoured  in  associa- 
tion with  great  men,  yet  you  would  always  find  him 


134     S.    H.    HADLEY  'OF    WATER    STREET 

the  same  humble,  unassuming,  loving  Hadley,  prefer- 
ring always  to  work  in  the  shadow  than  in  the  lime- 
light, where  others  love  to  shine.  He  was  in  a  class 
by  himself. 

"  Endowed  by  nature  with  a  striking  personality, 
genial  and  optimistic,  a  man  who  had  the  faculty  of 
making  friends  on  sight,  when  our  brother  got  a 
vision  of  '  the  Christ,'  and  '  old  things  passed  away  and 
all  things  became  new,'  Jesus  made  S.  H.  Hadley  a 
bearer  of  good  news  and  hope  to  thousands  of  lost  and 
hopeless  men  and  women,  who  have  been  '  saved  by 
grace  and  kept  by  the  power  of  God.' 

"  Personally  his  life  and  labours  have  been  a  great 
inspiration  to  me.  Since  he  has  been  called  home  I 
have  felt  as  though  I  lost  a  brother  indeed.  He  was 
a  true  friend.  This  all  Christian  workers  will  concede, 
and  more  particularly  rescue  mission  workers.  He 
believed  in  giving  every  body  a  square  deal. 
"  Sincerely  yours, 

"  HARRY  MONROE." 

"  GRAND  RAPIDS,  MICH.,  April  16,  1906. 
"  I  first  met  S.  H.  Hadley  at  Northfield,  Mass.,  six 
years  ago.  I  heard  him  speak  at  Round  Top ;  got 
down  in  front  of  him  where  I  could  see  his  face  and 
the  first  look  that  I  got  of  him  my  heart  went  out  to 
him  and  I  loved  him  ever  since.  As  he  told  the  story 
of  his  life,  I  cried  like  a  child.  I  had  suffered  from 
the  same  sin.  At  once  I  began  to  search  for  his  power. 
I  talked  with  him  about  his  work  and  about  mission 
work  generally,  but  did  not  tell  him  I  was  a  mission 
man.  I  wanted  to  learn  his  methods  and  the  secret  of 
his  power.  In  Chicago  the  next  winter,  where  we 


AT    NORTHFIELD    AND    WINONA     135 

were  together  at  a  Christian  Worker's  Convention,  I 
saw  a  practical  demonstration  of  it.  I  found  his 
power  lay  in  his  love  for  souls  and  his  love  of  souls 
came  from  his  love  of  Christ  and  the  vision  that  comes 
by  the  baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  so  I  reasoned  it  this 
way :  to  love  the  unlovely  as  S.  H.  Hadley  does  one 
must  have  the  love  of  God  shed  abroad  in  his  heart 
by  the  Holy  Ghost.  I  saw  him  talking  to  a  man  that 
was  drunk  and  slipped  up  close  to  him  and  listened  to 
what  he  said,  and  he  stood  there  and  wept  over  that 
stranger  that  was  drunk. 

"  I  turned  from  him  and  went  alone  before  God  and 
stayed  there  until  God  gave  me  the  same  power.  I 
used  to  try  to  love  souls  and  I  did  win  some  for  Jesus, 
but  after  S.  H.  Hadley  came  into  my  life  I  did  not 
have  to  try,  God  put  the  love  there. 

;'  The  first  time  he  heard  me  give  my  testimony  he 
came  to  me  after  the  service  and  put  his  arm  about  my 
neck  and  told  me  that  while  I  didn't  know  very  much 
I  knew  enough  to  love  Jesus  and  love  souls,  and  then 
he  gave  me  advice  that  I  have  lived  and  followed,  and 
if  I  have  been  a  success  as  a  mission  worker  it  was 
largely  due  to  this  first  heart  to  heart  talk  with  S.  H. 
Hadley.  I  came  home  from  the  convention  and 
changed  my  methods  of  working.  I  carried  a  great 
deal  of  gunpowder  in  my  make-up,  and  I  could  fight 
sometimes  easier  than  I  could  pray,  but  the  love  of 
God  and  love  for  souls  has  enabled  me  to  see  Christ- 
likeness,  or  at  least  a  soul  for  whom  Christ  died,  in 
the  very  lowest  drunkard  in  the  gutter.  I  thank  God 
for  Hadley's  life ;  I  thank  God  for  the  victory  in  his 
death,  and  I  think  if  there  is  one  man  who  will  live  on 
and  on,  it  is  dear  old  '  Hopp '  Hadley, 


136     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

"  Each  summer  for  ten  days  at  Winona  I  have  fol- 
lowed him  around  from  place  to  place,  catching  from 
him  some  of  the  sweetest  glimpses  of  my  Lord  that 
I  have  ever  had.  He  was  very  kind  to  me,  making  me 
presents  of  books  that  he  thought  would  help  me,  and 
writing  me  off  and  on  for  the  last  six  years  letters  of 
encouragement.  He  wasn't  afraid  to  pay  a  little  com- 
pliment here  and  there,  and  every  move  he  would 
make  seemed  to  endear  him  more  and  more  in  my  life. 

"  He  was  to  be  with  me  at  my  anniversary,  January 
19,  20  and  21  of  this  year,  and  on  the  morning  of  the 
i8th,  because  of  his  illness,  he  wired  me  that  it  would 
be  impossible  for  him  to  come.  The  telegram  was  a 
long  one  and  the  letter  that  followed  explaining  his 
trouble  and  sickness  was,  I  think,  the  sweetest  letter 
I  have  ever  received  from  any  man.  It  was  so  full 
of  love  and  so  full  of  Christ  that  it  just  seemed,  as  I 
read  it  to  my  people,  that  there  wasn't  a  dry  eye  in 
the  house. 

"  If  Hadley  could  say  nothing  good  of  anyone,  he 
wouldn't  say  anything.  When  I  heard  of  a  criticism 
coming  from  one  of  the  ministers  in  Winona  about 
Hadley  and  his  gang  of  '  bums '  speaking  from  the 
platform,  all  he  said  was,  '  The  Lord  help  him.  He 
ought  to  come  down  to  Water  Street  and  let  the  Lord 
save  him.'  Turning  to  me  he  said,  '  You  old  bum. 
You  love  Jesus  and  love  souls  and  that  combination 
makes  a  devil-possessed  preacher  turn  green  with 
envy.  Some  of  'em  are  too  dead  to  skin.' 

"After  telling  the  story  one  day  at  Winona,  he  said 
to  me,  after  having  spoken  to  three  or  four  thousand 
people  in  the  auditorium,  '  Trotter,  it's  too  bad  they 
ain't  all  "  bums,"  so  we  could  lead  them  to  Jesus.' 


S.    H.   HADI.EY  AND  CHARLES  M.   ALEXANDER  AT 
NORTHFIELD. 


AT    NORTHFIELD    AND    WINONA    137 

Little  did  he  know  what  his  words  of  encouragement 
meant  to  me. 

"  I  was  a  drunkard  when  Jesus  saved  me,  and  many 
people  seemed  to  see  very  much  good  in  me,  but  Had- 
ley  made  me  feel  that  I  amounted  to  something  in  the 
Kingdom  of  God.  He  used  to  say,  '  We  mission  bums 
are  a  part  of  God's  aristocracy/  When  I  have  been 
tempted  to  feel  that  my  work  for  Him  amounted  to 
nothing  I  would  always  go  back  to  the  time  that  Sam 
Hadley  told  me  I  was  a  '  winner '  because  I  loved  the 
drunkard. 

"  I  am  a  better  man  for  having  loved  S.  H.  Hadley, 
and  my  prayer  is  that  God  may  raise  up  someone  to 
take  the  place  of  this  man  in  this  old,  wicked  world. 
The  drunkards  of  this  country  have  lost  their  best 
friend  in  the  death  of  S.  H.  Hadley.  He  has  put 
rescue  mission  work  where  it  is  in  this  country  to-day. 
May  the  Lord  bless  his  memory. 

"  MELVIN  E.  TROTTER." 

"  LOUISVILLE,  KY.,  July  3,  1906. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  pay  a  loving  tribute  to  the 
memory  of  the  friend  of  sinners,  Samuel  Hopkins 
Hadley.  His  noble  and  lovable  character  and  life 
endeared  him  to  the  cultured  and  wealthy,  as  well  as 
to  the  depraved  and  poor.  To  us,  however,  whom  he 
led  up  from  the  depths  to  know  the  grace  and  love  of 
God,  his  life  was  a  true  benediction  and  his  death 
causes  keenest  sorrow ;  yet  we  rejoice  because  we 
know  he  is  now  with  Jesus,  whom  he  so  truly  loved 
and  served. 

"  The  first  time  I  met  S.  H.  Hadley  was  at  the 
second  anniversary  of  his  appointment  as  superintend- 


138     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF   WATER    STREET 

ent  of  the  McAuley  Water  Street  Mission,  which  I 
attended  as  a  spectator  with  a  party  of  friends  from 
the  church  to  which  I  belonged.  At  that  time  I  was 
a  prosperous  lawyer,  and  although  not  a  Christian, 
was  a  teacher  in  one  of  the  large  Sunday  Schools  in 
New  York  City. 

"  Five  years  or  six  years  later,  when  I  was  a  poor, 
helpless,  sinful  drunkard,  having  lost  money,  business, 
self-respect,  and  everything  worth  having  in  this  life, 
except  the  love  of  a  sainted  mother  and  noble  wife, 
who  would  not  let  me  go,  vile  though  I  was,  I  met  dear 
Brother  Hadley  again.  From  that  time  began  a  close 
and  tender  relationship  that  grew  more  and  more 
precious  every  year.  I  was  hopeless,  penniless  and 
miserable.  Instead  of  upbraiding,  he  helped  me ;  he 
told  me  of  Jesus's  love  and  power  to  save.  I  resolved 
to  quit  drink  and  lead  a  better  life.  For  a  while  I  did 
fairly  well,  but  because  I  would  not  make  a  full  sur- 
render, soon  fell  lower  than  before.  When  in  trouble, 
like  thousands  of  others,  I  thought  of  Hadley,  who 
was  so  well  known  as  the  friend  of  the  man  in  trouble. 
I  went  to  him  and  he  again  pointed  me  to  Jesus.  I 
tried  his  patience  more  perhaps  than  anyone  else,  being 
an  obstinate  man,  unwilling  to  yield  my  will  to  God. 
Dear  Brother  Hadley  never  lost  patience  with  any  sin- 
ner and  never  gave  a  man  up.  Thank  God,  he  held  on 
to  me.  I  remember  one  occasion  when  I  went  to  him 
in  an  awful  plight.  At  first  he  did  not  recognise  me ; 
then  he  looked  at  me  with  disgust  for  my  sinful  condi- 
tion ;  then  lifting  his  eyes  to  mine  with  an  expression 
of  sadness,  tenderness  and  sympathy  on  his  dear  face, 
he  said,  '  Bruce,  give  it  all  up  to  God.'  I  am  so  glad 
I  did  so  and  for  many  years  have  been  striving  to  give 


AT    NORTHFIELD    AND    WINONA    139 

it  all  up  to  God.  I  have  not  had  a  closer  earthly  friend 
than  S.  H.  Hadley.  For  over  ten  years  he  has  been 
my  confidant,  with  whom  I  could  freely  advise  about 
the  difficulties  and  trials  as  well  as  the  joys  and  suc- 
cesses of  the  work  the  Master  has  given  me.  His 
influence  upon  my  life  has  been  deeper  and  stronger 
than  that  of  any  other  man.  Whatever  success  as  a 
soul-winner  I  have  had,  is  due  in  a  very  large  measure 
to  the  Christlike  example  of  S.  H.  Hadley. 

"  The  last  time  I  saw  him  was  at  Winona,  in  August, 
1905,  when  we  had  our  last  quiet  talk  together.  He 
spoke  of  heaven  and  said :  '  It  won't  be  long  until  you 
and  I  are  there.'  He  has  gone  to  the  better  country. 
What  a  multitude  of  redeemed  drunkards,  saved 
through  his  instrumentality,  welcomed  him  as  he 
reached  the  Golden  Shore.  Multitudes  are  following 
after  who  will  greet  him  there  when  to  them  this  life 
is  over.  I  am  looking  forward  to  that  time  when  the 
Master  shall  say  to  me,  '  It  is  enough,  come  home.' 
"  Yours  sincerely, 

"  WM.  M.  BRUCE." 


XIII 
SPECIAL    MESSAGES 

aE  day  in  moving  some  articles  in  my  home 
I  came  across  a  phonograph  and  packed  in 
with  it  a  number  of  old  records.  Calling  my 
children  about  me  I  put  on  one  of  these  records  and 
started  the  phonograph  going,  when,  to  my  perfect 
surprise,  I  heard  the  voice  of  one  of  the  members  of 
my  household  who  for  three  years  had  been  in  heaven. 
Five  years  before  the  record  of  the  voice  had  been 
made  and  for  the  first  time  in  three  years  we  heard 
the  voice  of  the  loved  one  who  was  gone.  The  effect 
was  startling  and  one  could  scarcely  say  pleasing. 

S.  H.  Hadley  being  dead  yet  speaketh,  but  his  words 
have  quite  the  opposite  effect  upon  us  from  the  mes- 
sage in  the  phonograph.  In  these  messages  of  his  we 
see  his  great  heart  and  we  understand  something  of 
the  mighty  principles  which  governed  him  in  his  life 
work.  We  also  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  depth  of  his 
passion  for  souls  and  there  is  given  to  us  the  clearest 
possible  picture  of  his  devotion  to  the  poor,  lost  out- 
casts of  society. 

OUR    WORK 

Our  work  is  entirely  with  the  lost  who  have  squan- 
dered all  long  ago,  and  are  for  the  most  part  dying  on 
the  streets  or  in  the  low  groggeries  of  the  neighbour- 
hood. They  are  in  a  condition  when  they  come  here 
that  would  be  impossible  to  describe.  No  language 

HO 


SPECIAL    MESSAGES  141 

can  portray  it.  It  must  be  seen  to  be  believed.  Such 
men  must  have  care  of  all  kinds,  clothing,  food,  med- 
icine and  lodging;  are  often  sent  to  the  hospital  for  a 
long  or  short  period ;  in  fact,  it  is  real,  genuine  mission 
work,  and  plenty  of  it,  and  it  all  takes  money  to  care 
for  it.  If  anyone  would  doubt  this,  let  him  come  down 
and  take  a  look  at  the  converts  any  night,  and  their 
testimonies  will  leave  no  doubt  about  the  condition 
they  were  in  when  they  came  here,  and  how  they  are 
now,  since  Christ  has  done  His  work  in  their  hearts. 

In  some  Christian  movements  they  try  to  save  nice 
sinners,  well-dressed  sinners  and  sinners  with  good 
moral  characters,  but  with  us  it  is  quite  the  contrary. 
We  think  the  worst  need  salvation  the  most  and  so 
we  seek  the  very  worst.  Thank  God,  they  cannot  be 
too  bad  for  Him.  Our  testimonies  are  all  clear,  con- 
vincing and  spiritual.  They  deal  with  present  salva- 
tion. One  brother  says,  "  Now,  you  may  think  the 
last  drink  I  took  was  a  good  one,  when  I  only  gave 
five  cents  for  it,  and  it  has  lasted  me  sixteen  years. 
Praise  the  Lord,  I  haven't  wanted  to  take  a  drink  or 
'  chaw  of  tobacky '  since  I  knelt  down  then  and  asked 
God  to  save  my  soul ;  I  got  up  a  saved  man.  How  do 
I  know  I  was  saved?  Why,  if  you  had  a  heavy  load 
on  your  back  would  you  not  know  when  it  dropped 
off?  They  used  to  call  me  'Old  Bill,'  but  now  it  is 
Mr.  Love." 

TESTIMONIES 

The  main  feature  of  our  service  is  now  as  always 
the  testimonies  of  the  converts.  Night  after  night, 
year  in  and  year  out,  this  sweetest  music  sounds  in 
our  ears.  It  never  grows  tiresome.  How  strange! 
These  testimonies  are  very  practical  and  deal  in  one 


S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

way  or  another  with  all  the  affairs  of  life.  One 
brother  said :  "  I  had  no  money,  I  had  no  clothes. 
How  can  a  man  have  money  when  he  has  no  clothes? 
But  how  is  it  to-day  ?  I  ain't  a  dead  man  to-day,  I  am 
worth  a  dozen  dead  men.  I  have  clothes,  have  furni- 
ture, and  money,  too.  I  don't  want  any  whiskey  now. 
I  have  Jesus,  and  He  satisfies  my  longing  as  nothing 
else  can  do."  All  these  men  testify  in  a  plain,  com- 
mon-sense way.  Their  story  is  stripped  almost  en- 
tirely of  all  cant  phrases.  "  I  came  into  this  Mission," 
say  they,  "  so  long  ago  (giving  the  exact  number  of 
years,  months  and  days).  I  was  a  drunkard  and  had 
been  for  years.  I  was  in  rags,  half  dead,  so  tired  I 
knew  not  what  to  do.  I  had  '  carried  the  banner ' 
(walked  streets  all  night)  for  months.  I  heard  some- 
one speak  about  this  place  in  a  gin  mill  where  I  was 
hanging  out,  so  I  came  down.  I  heard  the  boys  here 
tell  about  Jesus,  how  He  loved  them  and  how  He  had 
saved  them.  They  said  Jesus  was  the  sinner's  friend. 
They  had  been  drunkards  just  like  me.  In  fact,  I  had 
known  some  of  the  men  I  saw  here  in  some  of  the 
institutions  where  I  had  been.  Well,  I  made  up  my 
mind  I  would  make  a  start ;  I  hadn't  any  feeling  at  all, 
but  I  wanted  help  and  wanted  it  bad,  so  I  came  for- 
ward and  knelt  down  and  asked  Jesus  to  save  my  poor, 
lost  soul.  I  tell  you  He  has  done  it.  I  don't  drink 
any  whiskey  now.  Praise  the  Lord !  I  don't  want  it. 
That  old  appetite  has  been  taken  away.  I  don't  know 
where  to  find  it.  I  reckon  I  could  find  it  if  I  would  go 
hanging  around  the  saloons,  but  I  have  had  enough  of 
that  old  life.  I  have  work  now' and  every  comfort  I 
need,  and  it  is  Jesus  who  has  done  it  all."  There, 
brother,  sister,  this  is  typical  Water  Street  testimony. 


SPECIAL    MESSAGES  143 

In  1901,  in  the  Homiletic  Review,  there  appeared 
an  article,  "  Some  Principles  of  Rescue  Work,"  in 
which  the  author  strongly  objected  to  the  testimony  of 
redeemed  drunkards.  Mr.  Hadley  felt  at  once  called 
upon  to  answer  this  article,  and  he  wrote  as  follows : 

"  Testimony  is  not  a  new  thing,  by  any  means. 
King  David  testified  far  more  plainly  than  I  have 
ever  heard  anyone  do  in  any  meeting  that  I  have  ever 
attended.  He  gave  utterance  to  such  soul-stirring 
psalms  as  '  Bless  the  Lord,  Oh  My  Soul,'  but  he  also, 
in  the  bitterness  of  his  soul,  left  on  the  imperishable 
pages  of  Holy  Writ  such  expressions  as :  '  My 
wounds  stink  and  are  corrupt  because  of  my  foolish- 
ness/ Psalm  xxxviii.  5. 

"  In  the  fifth  chapter  of  Mark  we  read  of  the  poor 
woman  who  had  an  issue  of  blood  for  twelve  years 
and  could  find  no  help.  She  stole  behind  Jesus  and 
clutched  the  hem  of  his  garment,  and  was  made  whole 
instantly.  She  was  going  to  keep  quiet  about  it,  but 
the  dear  Master  would  not  have  it  so.  Under  the 
Jewish  law  this  woman  was  unclean,  and  should  not 
have  come  into  contact  with  anyone ;  but  Jesus  called 
her,  and  she  came  trembling  and  fell  before  Him,  and 
told  Him  before  all  that  crowd  of  people,  men  and 
women,  on  the  public  street,  '  all  the  truth.'  Jesus 
sealed  this  honest  confession  by  a  blessing  on  her  head 
and  calling  her  'daughter.'  In  the  same  chapter  hear 
what  Jesus  said  to  the  demoniac,  out  of  whom  the 
legions  of  devils  had  been  cast.  When  he  wanted 
to  follow  his  precious  new  found  Friend,  Jesus  said, 
'  Go  home  to  thy  friends  and  tell  them  how  great  things 
the  Lord  hath  done  for  thee,  and  how  He  had  mercy 
upon  thee.' 


144     S.    H.    HADLEY   OF   WATER    STREET 

"  I  have  been  living  in  rescue  missions  almost  ever 
since  my  conversion,  over  nineteen  years  ago,  and 
have  heard  tens  of  thousands  of  testimonies;  I  have 
never  heard  one  that  would  shock  the  decent  ears  of 
any  Christian  woman  who  was  a  friend  to  sinners.  I 
have  been  in  the  Florence  Crittenton  Mission  over  a 
thousand  times,  where  the  testimonies  are  chiefly  by 
redeemed  women.  I  have  heard  them  tell,  with 
streaming  eyes,  how  Jesus  had  saved  them  from  a  life 
of  shame  and  sorrow,  and  with  nothing  suggestive  of 
anything  unwholesome  or  unbecoming.  One  of  the 
grandest  workers  I  know  of  among  the  lost  is  a  person 
who  had  been  a  thorough-paced  man  of  the  world  and 
had  sunken  down  in  sin,  and  was  saved  in  the  Florence 
Mission,  one  night  nearly  seventeen  years  ago,  while 
I  was  there,  by  hearing  just  such  a  testimony  as  I  have 
described.  This  is  by  no  means  an  isolated  case.  I 
have  attended  testimony  meetings  at  Mrs.  Whitte- 
more's  Door  of  Hope  time  and  again,  and  at  the  Way- 
side Home,  in  Brooklyn,  and  have  heard  the  sweet 
story  of  rescue  and  salvation  from  the  lips  of  the 
redeemed  ones,  and  never  a  word  to  offend. 

"  I  was  saved  by  the  testimony  of  redeemed  men, 
and  it  is  a  sensitive  subject  with  me.  On  April  23, 
1882,  I  went  into  Jerry  McAuley's  Mission,  a  dying 
drunkard.  I  had  just  come  from  the  station  house, 
where  I  had  gone  to  have  myself  locked  up  with 
delirium  tremens.  I  had  never  been  in  a  rescue  mis- 
sion before ;  and  there  I  saw  Jerry  McAuley  stand  up 
before  a  crowd  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  and  sinners 
of  every  type,  and  he  said,  '  I  am  saved  to-night  from 
whiskey  and  tobacco  and  everything  that's  wicked  and 
bad.  I  used  to  be  a  regular  old  bum  and  a  thief  down 


SPECIAL    MESSAGES  145 

in  the  Fourth  Ward,  but  Jesus  came  into  me  and  took 
the  whole  thing  out  of  me,  and  I  don't  want  it  any 
more.'  Never  had  I  heard  anything  like  this.  I  had 
heard  people  tell  how  good  they  were,  but  the  candour 
of  this  man  convinced  me  it  was  real.  Then  Sister 
McAuley  stood  up  and  said  she  had  been  saved  from 
a  life  of  drunkenness  and  shame  by  the  precious 
Saviour  fourteen  years  before  and  had  been  kept 
sweetly  ever  since,  and  the  great  tears  of  love  rolled 
down  her  cheeks.  I  said,  '  I  wonder  if  I  can't  be 
saved  ? '  and  I  was  saved  that  night  and  have  been 
kept  saved  ever  since." 

"OUR  GUESTS 

"  Not  infrequently  it  is  true  that  special  attention  is 
paid  the  rich  in  places  of  public  worship ;  the  man  with 
the  goodly  apparel  and  the  gold  ring  is  many  times 
shown  the  preference  in  the  matter  of  attention  and 
the  assigning  of  a  seat,  but  this  is  not  true  at  Water 
Street. 

"  One  night  a  leading  lawyer  with  his  cultured  wife 
came  to  the  Mission.  They  came  out  of  curiosity,  but 
in  the  service  they  were  convicted  of  sin.  They  both 
belonged  to  the  very  best  class  of  society  in  New  York, 
but  when  they  raised  their  hands  for  prayers  and 
acknowledged  themselves  to  be  sinners  they  were  told 
that  they  must  bow  with  the  rest  at  the  altar,  and  from 
their  knees  they  entered  into  an  experience  of  power 
to  which  up  to  that  time  they  had  been  strangers. 

"  The  thing  that  has  impressed  us  most  during  the 
past  year  above  all  else  is  the  wonderful  love  of  Jesus 
for  poor,  helpless,  dying  men.  Hundreds  who  came 
in  here  were  so  nearly  dead — they  seemed  almost  in- 


146     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

capable  of  exercising  a  bit  of  faith,  or  comprehending 
what  was  said — but  when  we  would  get  down  on  our 
knees  before  God,  somehow  the  day  began  to  break, 
and  they  would  feel  their  load  of  sin  and  cry  to  Jesus 
for  help. 

"  It  is  impossible  to  carry  on  this  work  without  as- 
sisting those  who  come,  more  or  less.  A  man  can 
exist  somehow,  hanging  around  a  saloon,  no  matter 
how  ragged  or  dirty  he  is,  but  when  he  tries  to  get 
up  he  is  powerless  to  do  so,  unless  some  friendly  hand 
is  extended  to  give  him  the  aid  he  so  much  needs. 
We  are  here  to  save  the  worst,  the  vilest,  and  the  most 
degraded  on  earth,  and  we  love  to  see  that  kind  come 
in  preference  to  all  others. 

"  GOD  is   WITH   us 

"  We  have  men  who  came  to  us  drunkards  and  were 
converted,  many  women  who  came  here  drunkards 
and  were  converted  to  God,  and  they  have  made  for 
themselves  good  homes,  gone  into  business,  prospered, 
and  employ  others  and  contribute  to  our  work;  hun- 
dreds of  dollars  are  paid  every  year  for  the  support  of 
this  work  by  men  and  women  who  could  not  have 
raised  one  penny  when  they  came  here  unless  they  had 
stolen  or  begged  it.  While  many  of  our  converts  go 
away  to  home  or  friends,  and  find  employment  that 
takes  them  out  of  our  reach,  we  always  have  a  good 
crowd  at  the  Mission  service.  We  hardly  ever  have 
less  than  twenty-five  redeemed  men  present,  and  often 
fifty.  Our  congregation  will  average  over  seventy- 
five  men  the  year  round ;  and  as  many  of  our  converts 
become  earnest  workers  we  have  lively  meetings. 
Then  we  do  have  to  a  remarkable  and  precious  degree 


SPECIAL    MESSAGES  147 

the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost  at  all  our  services.  Don't 
take  our  word  for  it,  but  come  and  see.  '  The  best  of 
all,  God  is  with  us.'  We  have  learned  long  since 
that  without  Him  we  can  do  nothing.  We  have  never 
lowered  the  standard  one  inch.  We  believe  and  pro- 
claim that  Jesus,  and  Jesus  only,  can  save  a  sinner 
from  eternal  perdition,  and  believing  this  mighty 
truth,  we  work  in  season  and  out  of  season  to  persuade 
men  to  turn  away  from  lives  of  sin  and  sorrow  and 
come  to  our  blessed  Saviour  and  find  eternal  life.  We 
think  it  a  great  privilege  to  be  able  and  have  a  chance 
to  do  this.  'Do  your  men  fall?'  How  often  I  have 
been  asked  that  question.  Yes,  I  am  sorry  to  say  they 
do  fall,  many  of  them  and  often  fall  many  times,  but 
we  never  give  a  man  up.  We  have  never  yet  had  a 
chance  to  test  the  full  measure  of  Jesus'  loving  com- 
mandment to  forgive  seventy  times  seven.  It  would 
be  a  wonder  if  they  did  not  fall.  Almost  insane  and 
ready  to  drop  from  excess,  want  and  exposure,  ready 
to  die  on  their  feet  for  want  of  sleep  and  care,  every 
drop  of  blood  in  their  bodies  calling  for  alcohol,  which 
has  been  their  steady  diet  for  years ;  every  friend  or 
acquaintance  they  know  is  a  drunkard.  Saloon  doors 
on  every  hand  wide  open,  warm,  brilliantly  lighted 
and  inviting.  Is  it  any  wonder  they  fall?  We  think 
it  a  matter  to  rejoice  over  if  they  don't  fall.  When 
our  men  fall  all  the  world  knows  it,  but  not  so  with  a 
well-contained  and  sober  sinner. 

"  WHAT    THE    MISSION    IS 

"  Many  come  to  us  for  the  sole  purpose  of  obtaining 
employment;  but  this  we  discourage,  for  we  believe 
most  men  who  come  here  are  idle  because  they  are 


148     S.    H.    HADLEY   OF   WATER    STREET 

drunkards  and  not  trustworthy.  We  believe  that  the 
Lord  has  a  job  for  every  saved  drunkard,  as  soon  as 
He  sees  it  is  safe  for  him  to  have  it.  We  believe  the 
blessed  old  book,  the  Bible,  and  every  promise  in  it. 

"  One  of  our  sheet  anchors  is,  '  Seek  ye  first  the 
Kingdom  of  God  and  His  righteousness,  and  all  these 
things  shall  be  added.'  MATT.  vi.  33. 

"  In  answer  to  many  inquiries,  verbally  and  by  letter, 
we  wish  to  say  that  the  McAuley  Mission  is  not  a 
university  settlement,  a  labour  bureau,  or  any  of  the 
new-fangled  plans  to  simply  better  the  condition  of  the 
human  race ;  but  it  is  a  real,  low-down  rescue  work,  and 
consequently  is  the  highest  work  in  the  city.  The 
most  degraded  men  and  women  in  the  world  are  the 
most  welcome  to  our  doors,  which  stand  open  night 
and  day.  If  they  are  homeless  we  will  be  a  home  to 
them ;  if  friendless,  we  will  be  their  friend ;  if  hungry 
(as  they  all  are),  we  feed  them;  if  naked,  we  clothe 
them;  if  without  character,  we  will  lead  them  to  One 
who  makes  character.  We  have  nothing  to  offer  here 
here  but  Jesus  the  crucified  one.  We  believe  that  one 
look  at  that  bleeding  victim  would  transform  the  vilest 
sinner  and  make  him  white  as  snow.  Of  this  class  are 
made  up  the  great  army  men  and  women  who  were 
saved  in  McAuley  Mission.  We  believe  in  the  old- 
time  religion — the  dear  old  gospel — salvation  through 
the  blood  has  never  failed  and  it  never  will  fail. 
Hallelujah ! 

"  AN    ILLUSTRATION 

"  One  peculiar  character  who  came  to  Water  Street 
was  Henry  Miller,  alias  Slippery  Dick.  He  was  a 
German,  a  small  man,  smooth,  clean  and  tidy;  did  not 


SPECIAL    MESSAGES  149 

take  much  to  liquor,  but  a  born  thief.  I  met  him  years 
ago,  in  1884,  in  Mike  Dunn's  home  for  ex-convicts. 
I  got  to  like  him  very  much.  He  went  to  prison  several 
times  after  this  and  has  served  altogether  thirty-six 
years  behind  the  bars.  He  began  coming  in  here  sev- 
eral years  ago,  and  used  all  his  arts  on  the  writer  to 
beat  him  out  of  all  he  could ;  and  I  must  say  with  a 
great  deal  of  success.  I  found  that  no  ordinary 
methods  would  do  for  Slippery  Dick,  so  I  gave  him 
about  everything  he  asked  for,  and  he  went  off  with 
a  chuckle,  satisfied  that  he  had  at  last  found  a  sucker ; 
but  don't  you  know,  dear  reader,  that  the  devil  often 
gets  beaten  at  his  own  game,  and  Slippery  Dick  finally 
got  so  ashamed  at  the  way  he  treated  me  and  the  way 
I  treated  him,  that  he  finally  came  up  for  prayers  to 
our  mercy  seat  and  said,  when  he  rose  from  his  knees, 
'  I  have  been  trying  to  be  a  Christian  for  a  good  many 
years,  but  I  am  going  to  quit  trying  now ;  I  am  going 
to  be  a  Christian  and  I  am  not  going  to  take  anything 
from  Mr.  Hadley  if  I  starve  in  the  street.'  He  went 
out  that  night  and  carried  the  banner  (walked  the 
streets)  ;  the  next  day  he  went  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hudson, 
who  has  charge  of  some  restaurants  on  the  Bowery, 
and  said,  '  I  want  work,  and  if  you  don't  give  me  work 
I  will  rob  you.'  Mr.  Hudson  looked  at  him,  sized  him 
up  well,  and  said,  'Who  are  you?'  He  said,  'I  am 
Slippery  Dick,  one  of  the  biggest  thieves  in  this  town, 
but  I  made  a  resolution  at  the  Old  McAuley  Mission 
to  live  a  Christian  life,  and  I  am  a  thief  no  longer,  but 
I  must  have  work.' 

"  Mr.  Hudson  put  him  to  washing  dishes  for  two  and 
a  half  dollars  a  week,  and  his  room  and  board.  He 
had  a  man  as  cashier  who  came  to  him  with  a  string 


150     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

of  recommendations,  and  who  had  always  been  good 
and  honest,  according  to  his  tale,  but  this  man  robbed 
him  of  every  cent  he  could  lay  his  hands  on,  and  ran 
away;  then  Mr.  Hudson  concluded  that  as  the  honest 
man  had  robbed  him  so  completely,  he  would  see  what 
the  thief  would  do ;  so  he  put  in  Slippery  Dick  as 
cashier.  He  was  true  and  honest  to  his  trust.  Slip- 
pery Dick  got  a  bad  cold,  and  I  got  him  in  the  Presby- 
terian Hospital,  and  while  everything  was  done  that 
could  be  done,  our  dear  brother  went  home,  and  as  he 
was  not  afraid  to  die,  he  passed  away  in  peace,  fully 
trusting  in  Jesus. 


LOVE    FOR    THE    DRUNKARD 

"  How  the  writer,  who  is  himself  a  redeemed  drunk- 
ard, saved  in  Jerry's  Mission  by  Christ  alone  at  death's 
door,  does  sympathise  with  the  drunkard !  Won't  you 
too,  dear  reader?  Poor,  helpless  fellow,  he  does  look 
hard  and  dirty,  don't  he?  No  friends,  no  clothes,  no 
money;  not  a  friend  in  the  world.  How  glad  I  am  to 
be  his  friend  and  point  him  to  the  Lamb  of  God  that 
taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world. 

'  That  head  hath  been  pillowed  on  tenderest  breast, 
That  form  hath  been  wept  o'er,  those  lips  have  been  pressed ; 
That  soul  hath  been  prayed  for  in  tones  sweet  and  mild, 
For  her  sake  deal  gently  with  some  mother's  child.' 

He  was  once  bright,  strong,  willing  and  able  to  do  his 
part,  but  the  saloon  got  his  heart  and  life;  he  has 
tried  ever  so  hard,  only  to  fail,  but  we  love  him  and 
Jesus  can  help  him. 


SPECIAL    MESSAGES  151 

" '  Poisoned  by  alcohol,  blear-eyed  and  illy  clad, 
Cursing  his  fate  as  he  shuffled  along; 
Crushed,  and  bereft  of  the  once  earnest  will  he  had, 
Penniless,  homeless,  jeered  by  the  throng. 
Friends  have  assisted  him,  pastors  have  prayed  o'er  him 
He  has  been  rescued  and  lost  o'er  and  o'er; 
Oh,  do  not  give  him  up, 
Pull  from  his  lips  the  cup, 
Speak  to  him  kindly  and  try  him  once  more.'' 

"  HOW    WE    DO    IT 

"  We  do  no^pteach  or  meddle ;  we  do  not  denounce, 
arraign  or  persecute ;  we  do  not  insist  that  others  shall 
think  as  we  do,  or  be  as  we  are,  or  practise  our  pre- 
cepts. This  Mission  offers  a  refuge  for  the  fallen  and 
abandoned.  It  helps  those  to  rise  who  cannot  rise  in 
their  own  strength.  It  applies  to  the  suffering  and 
destitute  the  touch  of  sympathy  and  loving  kindness. 
To  the  broken  heart  we  offer  hope.  To  the  wasted 
life  we  offer  encouragement  and  opportunity.  To 
moral  death  we  offer  resurrection  through  Jesus  Christ 
alone. 

"  We  proclaim  no  dogmas,  establish  no  theology,  in- 
flict no  penalties.  The  Old  Jerry  McAuley  Mission 
has  no  creeds  or  rituals.  We  are  devoted  to  love  and 
tender  ministration ;  to  help,  and  hope  and  rescue. 
Our  missionaries  see  the  misery  and  degradation  at  our 
own  doors,  and  we  hear  the  cry  of  the  afflicted  within 
our  reach,  and  help  all  who  come  to  our  sacred  altar. 

"  We  recognise  the  claim  of  the  neighbour's  anguish 
upon  our  conscience  and  we  arise  and  endeavour  to 
help  them.  We  believe  our  mission  was  sanctioned 
from  the  Mount  of  Olives,  and  we  have  pledged  our 
lives  and  strength  and  love,  everything  within  us,  to 


152     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

lift  up  the  fallen,  cheer  the  faint,  feed  the  hungry  and 
clothe  the  naked. 

"  Is  it  discouraging?  you  ask.  Oh,  yes,  it  is  simply 
heart-breaking  from  a  human  point  of  view,  but  all 
of  us  who  work  here  have  been  saved  ourselves 
out  of  the  horrible  pit,  with  the  very  smell  of  fire  on 
our  garments.  We,  too,  have  stooped  down  and  drank 
out  of  the  bitter  stream,  and  we  can  sympathise  with 
those  who  come  to  us  with  conscience  seared  and 
hearts  broken,  almost  destitute,  reputation  and  charac- 
ter gone,  but  we  believe  the  loving  touch  of  Jesus  will 
restore  life  and  manhood  and  womanhood.  '  I  am  the 
resurrection  and  the  life,'  said  He ;  '  he  that  believeth 
on  Me,  though  he  were  dead  yet  shall  he  live;  and 
whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  in  Me  shall  never  die," 
and  we  have  seen  this  exemplified  almost  daily  during 
the  last  eighteen  years. 

"  Few  people  come  here  directly  for  salvation.  Their 
needs  drive  them  here.  They  have  spent  all  and  be- 
gan to  be  in  want.  Thousands  of  them  say,  '  I  will 
arise  and  go  to  my  Father  and  say,  Father,  I  have 
sinned  against  heaven  and  in  Thy  sight,  and  am  no 
more  worthy  to  be  called  Thy  son/  and  God  the 
Father  sees  them  a  great  way  off. 

"  No  one  can  deny  that  this  work  is  trying.  It  drives 
us  to  the  very  last  ditch.  We  cannot  discriminate 
much ;  in  fact  we  don't  try.  We  help  everybody  who 
comes  to  us,  more  or  less ;  in  fact,  we  don't  know  who 
to  refuse,  for  those  who  from  the  human  standpoint 
seem  the  most  hopeless  turn  out  to  be  the  brightest 
cases.  Do  they  fall?  Yes,  alas,  they  do,  and  they 
rise  again,  and  it's  the  same  old  story.  Weak 
humanity,  yielding  to  the  mighty  power  of  sin,  and 


SPECIAL    MESSAGES  153 

then  Jesus  comes  in  and  helps  them.    Often  we  find 
men  are  better  for  this  schooling  in  the  end. 

"  The  devil  is  the  best  missionary  we  get  around 
Water  Street.  When  a  man  gets  on  his  feet,  gets  a 
good  job,  gets  to  feel  that  he  don't  need  the  Mission  so 
much,  he  wanders  around  evenings,  goes  on  the  Bow- 
ery, goes  into  the  play-house ;  then  it  is  an  easy  step  to 
the  saloon.  Then  he  goes  down  and  Satan  stamps  on 
him  with  both  feet,  and  within  twenty-four  hours  his 
clothes  are  gone.  His  money  gone  too,  and  then  he 
conies  back  to  Water  Street,  half  dead,  and  although 
it  is  discouraging,  he  has  perhaps  learned  a  lesson. 
Humbly  and  sincerely  he  starts  again  in  the  Christian 
life." 


XIV 
rAS    AN    EDITOR1 

IN  1883,  when  Mr.  Hadley  first  became  associated 
with  Jerry  McAuley,  it  was  decided  to  establish 
a  newspaper.  This  paper  was  intended,  not  only 
to  keep  the  interests  of  the  McAuley  Mission  before 
the  public,  but  it  was  given  such  circulation  as  to 
enable  Jerry  McAuley  and  his  faithful  co-worker  to 
reach  as  many  of  the  outcasts  as  possible, — those  who 
would  not  read  the  ordinary  newspaper;  those  who 
were  behind  prison  bars  who  would  be  interested  in 
the  publication  simply  because  it  was  published  by  one 
who  had  himself  been  in  prison,  and  edited  by  one 
who  was  redeemed  from  the  curse  of  strong  drink. 

WHY   THE    NAME   WAS    CHOSEN 

"  The  editor  of  this  paper  was  converted  at  Jerry 
McAuley 's  Mission.  If  he  had  not  in  God's  mercy 
found  his  way  to  this  place,  he  would  not  have  been 
alive  to  start  the  Perpetual  Revival.  The  object  of 
this  paper  is  to  tell  to  the  world  the  wonderful  news 
of  how  God  is  blessing  mission  work  in  this  city  at 
this  and  other  places.  There  are  thousands  of  men 

1  I  am  indebted  to  Mr.  Smith  Allen  of  New  York  City  for 
the  old  file  of  the  Perpetual  Revival.  Mr.  Allen  was  one 
of  Mr.  Hadley's  devoted  friends,  a  man  who  has  stood  by 
him  in  his  work  from  the  very  first.  J.  W.  C. 

154 


AS    AN    EDITOR  155 

who  have  never  heard  the  '  glad  tidings,'  and  would 
be  glad  to  attend  these  places  where  the  nightly  testi- 
monies are  so  convincing,  where  high  and  low,  rich 
and  poor  meet  on  a  common  level,  where  demonina- 
tion  and  creed  are  forgotten.  These  are  places  where 
a  burglar  need  not  be  ashamed  to  tell  of  his  past  life 
and  ask  for  prayers  and  assistance.  The  drunkard 
who  wants  to  reform  can  come  in  and  be  welcome 
whether  he  has  a  coat  to  his  back  or  not.  If  he  has 
none,  they  will  pray  for  him  and  give  him  one. 

"  It  was  an  untrodden  field  in  journalism,  and  the 
result  of  three  weeks'  experience  is  that  the  Perpetual 
Revival  has  sprung  into  unheard  of  popularity,  and  it 
is  not  confined  to  those  who  make  a  profession  alone. 
'  The  boys  '  like  to  read  it.  People  who  never  go  to 
church  subscribe  for  it,  saints  and  sinners  take  it,  and 
when  they  have  read  it,  send  it  to  their  friends  in 
other-  cities  and  states,  until  now  we  are  receiving 
letters  from  all  parts  of  the  United  States  asking  for 
the  Revival.  In  its  columns  will  always  be  found  a 
correct  report  of  the  doings  and  happenings  at  Jerry 
McAuley's  Mission  and  other  missions,  as  the  interest 
of  the  work  seems  to  warrant. 

"  Many  have  asked,  '  Where  did  you  get  the  name 
for  your  paper?'  The  name  is  suggested  from  the 
fact  that  there  has  been  a  perpetual  revival  in  prog- 
ress at  the  Cremorne  Mission  ever  since  the  writer 
was  converted  there,  shortly  after  the  Mission  opened 
its  doors  nearly  one  year  ago.  The  revival  sprung 
up  itself.  It  was  the  Holy  Spirit  moving  on  men's 
hearts,  and  as  time  goes  on  it  increases.  It  will  be  the 
pleasant  duty  of  this  paper  to  chronicle  these  incidents 
in  a  newsy  way  which  will  be  interesting  to  everyone." 


156     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

In  the  various  editorials  there  is  given  another  view 
into  the  deep  heart  experience  of  S.  H.  Hadley.  His 
views  of  mission  work  in  general,  his  appreciation  of 
the  rescue  mission,  his  abhorrence  of  strong  drink, 
and  his  devotion  to  his  Master,  are  all  clearly  por- 
trayed in  the  editorials  he  prepared  February  10. 

"BAXTER  STREET 

"  One  thing  that  astonishes  the  young  Christian 
more  than  anything  else  is  to  find  so  many  good  men 
and  women  where  he  did  not  expect  to  find  any.  Also, 
to  see  how  much  good  is  being  done  where  he  supposes 
the  name  of  Christ  was  never  spoken,  except  in 
blasphemy. 

"  As  the  writer  was  meandering  his  way  up  a 
crooked  and  uncertain  stairway  in  the  very  heart  of 
Baxter  Street,  his  attention  was  arrested  by  hearing  a 
voice  (evidently  a  woman's)  in  prayer.  He  was  on  the 
landing  of  the  third  story  of  a  coloured  sailors'  board- 
ing-house, and  from  the  surroundings  it  was  the  last 
place  on  earth  one  would  expect  to  hear  a  prayer  to 
the  Almighty  God.  The  supplicant  was  praying  away 
in  a  manner  which  showed  she  was  undisturbed  by 
the  surroundings,  and  it  was  plain  to  the  hearer  that 
she  had  no  doubt  at  all  that  she  had  the  ear  of  the 
heavenly  Father.  Unwilling  to  disturb  such  a  solemn 
scene,  the  Revival  man  took  off  his  hat  and  felt  for 
his  pencil. 

! '  O  Lord,'  said  the  voice,  '  how  good  Thou  art. 
How  precious  You  have  been  to  us.  Blessed  be  Thy 
dear  name  forever.  We  never  called  on  Thee  but 
Thou  didst  come.  Now,  dear  Saviour,  You  know  all 
about  me.  I  can  .never  thank  You  enough  for  what 


'AS   AN    EDITOR  157 

You  have  done  for  me,  but,  dear  Jesus,  stay  with  me. 
I  am  weak,  Thou  knowest  how  I  have  tried  to  win 
souls  for  Thee.  Thou  knowest  all  about  this  neigh- 
bourhood. Do,  dear  Jesus,  help  me  to  bring  souls  to 
Christ.' 

"  We  cannot  give  it  all  here.  As  soon  as  there  was 
silence  the  reporter  knocked  at  the  door  and  found 
himself  in  a  plain,  neatly  furnished  room.  Three 
women  and  one  man  were  on  their  knees  at  a  round 
table  in  the  centre  of  it,  and  the  writer  hastily  un- 
covered his  head  and  knelt  down  with  them.  One 
verse  of  a  sweet  melody  was  sung  and  then  after  all 
had  risen,  a  kind  but  determined-looking  woman  ap- 
proached the  writer  to  learn  the  cause  of  the  intru- 
sion. A  few  words  only  were  necessary  to  place 
everyone  on  a  comfortable  footing. 

"  The  Revival  man  was  in  search  of  the  well-known 
Baxter  Street  missionary,  Mrs.  Doolittle,  and  had  got 
at  her  very  door  before  he  was  aware  of  it.  This  is 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  women  in  the  mission  field. 
She  secured  a  foothold  in  Baxter  Street  ten  years  ago, 
and  bad  as  the  street  is  now,  it  is  nothing  to  what  it 
was  then.  She  goes  in  saloons  and  preaches  Sunday 
afternoons  and  uses  the  bar  to  lay  her  Bible  and  hymn 
book  on.  No  one  touches  her,  and  so  great  is  her 
influence  over  this  class,  that  they  all  would  resent  an 
insult  towards  her.  She  goes  into  the  lowest  brothels 
and  dance  houses  and  openly  persuades  young  girls 
to  leave;  if  she  cannot  obtain  her  point,  she  prays 
with  them.  When  asked  how  she  could  do  this  she 
exclaimed  :  '  Me  ?  I  can't  do  it.  It  is  all  Jesus,  bless 
the  Lord !  ' 

"  And  then  warming  up  with  her  theme,  so  her  face 


158     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

fairly  shone  with  rapture,  she  added :  '  Praise  the 
Lord,  praise  the  Lord !  Brother,'  said  she,  '  do  you 
know  we  don't  praise  him  half  enough.' " 

"  THE   STRONGER   OF   THE   TWO 

"  The  love  of  whiskey  is  stronger  than  the  love  of 
money.  It  is  said  the  '  love  of  money  is  the  root  of 
all  evil.'  It  is  the  love  of  money  that  keeps  the  world 
moving.  What  will  men  not  do  for  money?  They 
will  cross  the  seas,  climb  over  mountains,  work  in 
dark  rayless  caverns,  expose  themselves  to  all  sorts  of 
dangers,  deprive  themselves  of  all  comforts,  endure 
fatigues — almost  anything  within  the  reach  of  human 
capacity,  and  then,  after  having  secured  it  by  such 
means,  they  sacrifice  it  all  for  whiskey.  Slaves  of 
this  appetite  will  spend  their  last  dime  for  whiskey, 
no  matter  how  much  they  may  be  suffering  for  the 
necessaries  of  life.  We  have  known  men  while  on  a 
spree,  and  being  refused  a  drink  on  credit,  to  step  in 
a  hallway  and  take  off  their  shirt  and  offer  it  for  rum. 
'  Only  one  drink,'  they  say.  '  I  will  die  if  I  don't 
get  it.  I  shall  die.'  " 

"  THE   LOVE   FOR   WHISKEY 

"  Men  thoroughly  under  the  influence  of  this  ap- 
petite are  utterly  indifferent  to  the  love  of  home.  Not 
only  are  the  wants  and  wishes  of  loved  ones  disre- 
garded, but  their  comfort  and  happiness  sacrificed  in 
order  to  gratify  the  unquenchable  thirst  for  strong 
drink.  There  is  probably  nothing  on  earth  that  can 
compare  with  alcohol  as  a  despoiler  of  home. 

"  What  will  a  sane  man  not  do  to  protect  and  defend 


AS    AN    EDITOR  159 

his  fireside?  What  labours,  fatigues,  privations  will 
he  not  cheerfully  go  through  with  to  provide  for  the 
wants  of  those  who  are  dependent  upon  him ;  and  yet 
under  the  influence  of  this  inordinate  and  depraved 
appetite,  he  grows  indifferent  and  neglectful,  and  even 
spurns  contemptuously  the  sad  pleadings  of  suffering 
loved  ones.  There  is  nothing  under  the  sun  that  so 
thoroughly  conquers  man's  love  for  his  family  and 
friends  as  the  appetite  for  whiskey  or  beer.  Afflic- 
tions, sorrows  and  disappointments  only  tend  to  bind 
men  closer  to  their  home  life,  but  alcohol,  that  enemy 
of  the  home,  that  despoiler  of  peace,  that  breeder  of 
discord,  that  foe  to  friendship,  that  stranger  to  love, 
tends  to  estrange  and  alienate  men  from  all  that  is 
pure,  peaceable  and  lovely." 

"  THE   DECEITFULNESS    OF   WHISKEY 

"  One  who  wielded  an  inspired  pen  many  hundred 
years  ago,  said,  speaking  of  wine :  '  Whosoever  is  de- 
ceived thereby  is  not  wise.'  There  is  nothing  on  earth 
that  deceives  us  as  does  the  intoxicating  drink.  It 
promises  to  slake  thirst,  but  instead  of  doing  so  it 
creates  a  deeper  thirst.  It  promises  happiness  and 
peace,  but  instead  of  these  boons  it  brings  misery, 
confusion  and  despair.  It  promises  health  and  long 
life,  but  it  really  brings  disease,  and  a  premature  and 
terrible  death.  Who  except  those  who  have  passed 
through  it,  can  tell  the  suffering  and  anguish  that 
takes  possession  of  the  man  or  woman  who  is  a  slave 
to  rum.  The  fearful  apprehension  of  something  awful 
that  is  about  to  happen,  the  longing  for  sleep,  and 
the  dread  to  go  to  sleep  for  fear  we  will  wake  up  in 
hell.  How  it  deceives  us  too,  that  we  are  not  so  bad 


160     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

after  all,  that  what  we  did  would  be  excused  because 
we  were  drunk.  We  imagine  we  are  in  bad  luck.  It 
was  not  our  fault  that  we  were  discharged  from  our 
job,  oh,  no;  rum  will  conjure  up  a  hundred  excuses, 
and  we  go  to  the  fatal  cup  for  comfort.  It  is  almost 
useless  to  talk  to  a  man  who  is  so  deceived.  He  must 
go  to  the  bottom.  He  must  realise  that  it  is  not  bad 
luck.  It  is  not  bad  health  or  bad  friends  that  have 
brought  all  this  trouble,  but  it  is  whiskey  and  nothing 
but  whiskey. 

"  Another  style  of  deception  of  this  foe  of  mankind 
is  the  way  it  creeps  on  us  unawares.  How  slowly  and 
stealthily  it  advances  on  its  unsuspecting  victim. 
Its  progress  is  almost  imperceptible.  The  unfortu- 
nate one  is  not  conscious  of  its  approach  until 
he  awakes  from  his  deceptive  slumber  of  self-security 
to  find  himself  bound  hand  and  foot,  and  with  no 
power  to  extricate  himself  from  its  merciless  and  un- 
yielding grasp.  He  writhes  and  struggles  in  vain 
for  deliverance.  It  has  entwined  its  secret  forces  about 
every  limb,  and  he  lies  chained  in  hopeless  bondage 
to  an  ungovernable  appetite. 

"  At  first,  the  drunkard  is  master  of  his  appetite, 
but  it  is  only  for  a  brief  time.  He  soon  becomes  its 
servant,  and  finally  its  most  loyal  and  menial  slave. 
In  the  language  of  one  who  tasted  the  bitterest  dregs, 
'  Alcohol  was  at  first  my  jolly  companion.  I  soon  be- 
came its  humble  and  obedient  servant,  and  now  I  am 
its  helpless  and  cowardly  slave.' 

"  There  is  one  refuge,  thank  God.  That  only  refuge 
is  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  No  one  can  doubt  but 
that  the  very  devil  is  in  the  cup.  There  is  no  dis- 
the  deroon  that  P-OP.S  rlo\v.n  v.our  throat  with 


AS    AN    EDITOR  161 

the  whiskey  you  swallow.  All  drunkards  know  that 
rum  is  their  mortal  foe,  so  the  only  course  left  is  to 
turn  to  the  friend  of  all  mankind,  the  dear  Saviour, 
who  stands  with  loving  arms  waiting  to  receive  you. 
Oh !  poor,  tired,  drunken,  weary  soul,  how  much  you 
need  rest.  How  bad  the  devil  has  used  you,  how 
poorly  he  has  paid  you.  Shake  off  his  bonds  and 
make  one  grand  glorious  effort.  Look  up  to  Christ, 
and  say  I  will  go  to  Jesus.  I'll  go  to  Him  though  I 
die,  and  who  dare  hinder  me  ?  Dear  friend,  whenever 
you  come  to  this  point,  you  have  the  victory.  Satan 
will  flee  in  real  alarm,  and  then  just  let  go  and  drop. 
Christ  will  catch  you;  and  oh!  the  rest,  the  sweet, 
sweet  rest,  that  will  be  yours.  Try  it." 

"  THE   APPETITE   FOR   ALCOHOL 

"  We  have  heard  people  claim  to  have  a  natural 
appetite  for  whiskey  and  strong  drink;  but  this  is  a 
great  mistake;  nature  never  bred  or  developed  such 
a  contradiction,  such  an  anomaly.  If  she  had  she 
would  have  created  alcohol  with  which  to  satisfy  it, 
and  this  she  has  not  done.  It  is  not  found  in  nature's 
laboratory. 

"  Nature  makes  ample  provisions  for  all  those  wants 
that  are  natural,  but  she  made  no  provisions  what- 
ever for  the  alcoholic  appetite,  therefore  it  is  unnatural. 

"  God  made  man  upright  and  honest,  but  he  has 
sought  out  many  inventions  and  this  is  one  of  them. 
Appetite  is  very  largely  if  not  wholly  an  artificial 
creature  and  capable  of  almost  any  degree  of  per- 
version. 

"  When  under  restraint  and  controlled  by  reason  and 
judgment,  it  is  one  of  the  greatest  sources  of  health 


162     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

and  happiness  known  to  mankind,  but  when  it  once 
gets  the  mastery  over  these  attributes  it  becomes  a 
merciless  tyrant,  enslaving  to  its  menial  servitude  all 
the  highest  and  best  capacities  of  soul,  body  and 
spirit." 

S.  H.  Hadley  was  passionately  devoted  to  his 
mother.  I  have  again  and  again  seen  the  tears  glisten 
in  his  eyes  as  he  told  the  story  of  her  devotion  to  him, 
and  of  the  expectation  he  had  of  one  day  being  with 
her  again.  The  editorial  which  follows  is  but  another 
indication  of  this. 

"  MOTHER 

"  What  a  world  of  memories  cluster  round  that 
word.  How  we  each  begin  to  think  of  our  own  dear 
mother.  Our  recollections  go  back  to  childhood,  when 
we  first  become  acquainted  with  that  dear,  sweet  face. 
About  the  first  thing  we  can  remember  of  her  is  as 
we  knelt  down  at  her  side  and  said  the  prayers  she 
taught  us.  Then  she  would  lift  us  up  so  tenderly  and 
put  us  to  bed,  and  tuck  us  in  and  give  us  a  good  hug 
and  a  good-night  kiss.  When  we  were  sick,  how  she 
would  stand  over  us  with  that  anxious  look,  never 
weary,  never  tired,  and  when  we  would  go  to  sleep  and 
awake  mother  was  always  there,  wide-awake.  In- 
deed, we  often  used  to  wonder  in  our  childhood  in- 
nocence when  mother  did  sleep.  The  first  face  we 
shall  look  for  when  we  get  to  heaven,  and  the  first 
one  we  expect  to  see,  will  be  mother's ;  and  we  ex- 
pect her  sweet,  gentle  voice  to  be  the  first  sound  that 
will  break  with  rapture  on  our  ears.  When  she  was 
sick  we  would  steal  into  the  room  on  tip-toe,  with  a 
great  fear  in  our  heart.  A  dread  of,  we  did  not  know 


AS   AN    EDITOR  163 

what,  and  a  choking  sensation  at  the  throat;  we  did 
not  intend  to  speak  to  her;  but  mother  heard  us,  no 
matter  how  softly  we  stepped,  and  turned  her  dear 
face  over  and  we  climbed  up  on  a  chair  for  a  kiss. 

"  But  the  time  rolled  on  and  we  grew  up  to  be  a 
large  boy.  We  came  to  the  conclusion  that  mothers 
were  excellent  when  we  were  little,  but  got  somewhat 
troublesome  when  a  boy  was  trying  to  be  a  man.  How 
horrified  she  was  when  she  first  smelt  tobacco-smoke 
on  us,  and  can  we  ever  forget  how  the  look  of  anxiety 
turned  to  real  anguish  when  she  detected  liquor  on 
our  breath.  At  last  the  time  came  when  she  could 
only  pray.  She  would  pour  out  her  soul  in  prayer  to 
Him  who  bore  all  our  sorrows.  What  a  blessed 
thing  there  is  a  place  where  mother  can  go,  when 
her  very  heart  seems  to  be  breaking  in  agony.  Be- 
fore we  got  to  be  so  careless  and  hardened,  we  some- 
times had  moments  of  remorse,  and  conscience  would 
prick  us  for  causing  our  dear  mother  so  much  sor- 
row, and  then  how  quickly  she  forgave  us,  and  with 
her  arms  around  us  kissed  us  with  the  old  confidence 
restored.  But,  alas !  these  spells  would  be  of  short 
duration,  and  rum  had  already  begun  to  do  its  work. 
Then  the  lines  would  begin  to  grow  deep  on  that 
face  that  was  so  peaceful,  and  tear-stains  were  often 
found  there.  All  this  time  we  loved  our  mother, 
and  we  knew  she  was  the  best  friend  we  had  on 
earth ;  but  the  deadly  poisonous  serpent  we  were  tak- 
ing stilled  the  voice  and  pleadings  of  mother,  as  well 
as  all  other  holy  things. 

"  At  last  when  we  came  home  late  one  night  some- 
one met  us  at  the  door.  It  wasn't  mother, — it  was 
some  kind  friend,  and  we  are  told  '  mother  is 


164     S.    H.    HADLEY   OF   WATER    STREET 

dead.'  '  What,  mother  dead  ?  '  The  first  face  we  ever 
saw  pale  and  cold.  The  first  voice  we  ever  heard 
hushed  in  the  awful  stillness  of  death.  It  must  be 
a  mistake;  but  at  the  same  time  something  in  the 
very  stillness  told  us  she  was  dead.  We  thought  as 
we  approached  the  house  a  few  moments  ago  that 
we  would  not  have  her  see  us  for  anything;  but  now 
we  would  be  willing  our  whole  life  should  be  laid 
bare  if  she  could  only  speak  to  us  once  more  and  bid 
us  good-bye,  ere  she  took  that  eternal  sleep.  *  Will 
you  go  to  see  her  now  ? '  was  asked.  *  Yes,'  we 
would  go.  We  did  not  know  what  else  to  say.  We 
followed  along  to  the  chamber  of  death.  Oh!  dear, 
could  that  be  mother!  That  rigid  form  with  a  white 
sheet  so  carefully  laid  over  it.  They  lifted  the  cloth 
off,  and  we  saw  it  was  her  indeed.  It  was  no  horrid 
dream,  as  we  had  hoped.  Then  we  looked  so  closely, 
to  see  if  we  could  find  any  traces  of  anger  or  reproof 
or  displeasure ;  for  it  was  then  we  knew  it  would  be 
for  us;  but  it  was  not  there.  Before  her  soul  had 
taken  its  flight  she  had  been  permitted  mayhap  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  Eternal  City  beyond,  and  it 
wore  a  peaceful,  sweet  look.  '  Did  she  say  anything 
about  me  ?  Did  she  leave  me  any  word  ? '  we  asked 
with  choking  voice.  '  Oh,  yes !  she  told  us  to  tell 
you  that  she  had  prayed  for  you,  so  many  times,  and 
she  knew  God  would  bring  in  her  dear  wandering 
boy,  and  he  must  be  sure  and  meet  her  in  heaven.' 

"  Yes,  indeed,  we  would !  Ah,  yes !  We  almost 
wished  we  could  die  then,  and  go  to  her.  And  as  we 
stood  there  in  awe  looking  upon  the  work  that  death 
had  wrought,  we  remembered  the  song  we  had  learned 
in  childhood : 


AS    AN    EDITOR  165 

"'Mother,  thou  wast  mild  and  lovely, 

Gentle  as  the  summer  breeze, 
Pleasant  as  the  air  of  evening, 
When  it  floats  among  the  trees.' 

"  In  after  years  when  sin  and  vice,  and  rum,  had 
us  firmly  in  their  toils,  we  would  sometimes  call  to 
mind  that  dear  dead  face  and  remember  those  prayers 
of  mother's,  and  then  we  would  go  and  drink  deeper, 
and  try,  though  in  vain,  to  drown  all  these  thoughts. 
But  a  mother's  prayer  will  never  die.  The  fervent 
agonising  prayer  of  a  true  Christian  mother  will  go 
up  to  God,  and  it  will  be  answered  some  day  in  God's 
own  time.  It  will  never  fall  to  the  ground.  We  know 
God  heard  it,  in  our  behalf." 

"on,  RUMSELLER! 

"  I  would  not  take  your  death  for  all  this  life  af- 
fords, and  all  its  multiplied  pleasures.  Oh,  thou  cor- 
rupter  of  youth,  and  disseminator  of  misery  and  woe, 
and  tears  and  sobs.  When  you  draw  near  to  death, 
how  will  it  be?  To  the  Christian  these  shadows  are 
tinted  with  a  golden  hue,  and  the  heaven's  light  shines 
through  and  over  it.  But  to  you  these  shall  be  shadows 
full  of  demons.  Images  of  terror  shall  dimly  rise  and 
beckon  you  on.  The  ghostly  deeds  of  the  past  shall 
arise  and  stretch  out  their  skinny  hands  to  push  you 
forward.  You  will  not  die  unattended.  No,  indeed. 
There  will  be  plenty  of  company  around  your  bedside. 
Despair  will  mock  you.  Agony  shall  press  to  your 
parched  lips  her  fiery  cup.  Remorse  will  feel  for  your 
heart  and  rend  it  open.  Good  men  will  breathe  the 
freer  when  you  are  dead,  and  utter  thanksgiving  when 


166     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

you  are  gone,  and  feel  as  though  a  plague  is  stayed, 
and  surrounded  by  fiends,  and  borne  on  a  blast, 
your  guilty  spirit  whistles  toward  the  city  of  death 
and  night,  and  the  shrieks  of  those  who  have  been 
damned  through  the  liquor  you  have  sold  them  will 
be  your  first  welcome  to  the  place  where  you  will 
send  up  your  unavailing  and  helpless  cry  throughout 
a  never-ending  eternity. 

"  Poor  soul.  He  don't  seem  to  realise  that  he  will 
die  if  he  does  get  it.  If  these  poor  unfortunate  rum 
and  sin-cursed  souls  will  only  come  to  some  of  the 
missions,  whose  hospitable  doors  are  ever  open  to 
receive  them,  and  give  their  hearts  to  God  and  ask 
His  help,  they  would  soon  learn  the  only  true  way  to 
overcome  the  greatest  of  all  curses, — rum." 

It  was  from  this  experience  that  his  great  mission 
to  the  outcast  started.  I  have  often  heard  him  say 
that  when  he  reached  the  Cremorne  Mission  the  room 
was  crowded  and  the  crowd  reached  out  into  the 
street,  but  an  old  man  said  to  him,  "  Do  you  want  to 
go  in?"  Tremblingly  he  replied,  "I  do  if  I  can." 
"  Well,"  said  he,  "  just  take  hold  of  my  coat-tails  and 
follow  me."  Holding  on  for  dear  life  like  as  a  drown- 
ing man  would  catch  at  a  rope,  he  was  drawn  through 
the  crowd  until  he  stood  near  the  front.  His  con- 
version was  the  result  and  his  marvellous  mission  is 
begun. 

The  name  of  the  aged  man  has  never  been  known, 
but  doubtless  he  is  to-day  in  glory,  and  if  so,  S.  H. 
Hadley  must  have  met  him,  and  they  two  rejoice  to- 
gether over  the  mighty  work  accomplished  by  this 
truly  wonderful  man. 


XV 
SOME    PERSONAL    TESTIMONIES 

A  I  entire  volume  could  be  written  embracing 
the  personal  testimonies  of  the  devotion  in 
which  S.  H.  Hadley  was  held,  not  only  by 
his  friends,  but  by  the  outcast  men  and  women  who 
had  no  claim  upon  him  at  all,  except  that  Jesus  loved 
them,  and  he  loved  Jesus.  His  eye  always  seemed  to 
be  open  for  the  one  who  was  down  and  out.  He  would 
pass  by  a  man  of  affairs  to  take  the  hand  of  a  reeling, 
staggering  drunkard,  but  it  is  a  pleasure  to  record 
not  only  the  testimonies  of  men  who  were  redeemed 
like  himself,  but  of  some  men  of  renown. 

"A    PERSONAL   APPRECIATION 

By  Rev.  R.  A.  Torrey,  D.  D. 

"  I  regard  the  late  Samuel  H.  Hadley  as  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  characters  I  have  ever  met.  He  was 
the  embodiment  of  Christlike  love.  I  think  I  have 
never  heard  any  man  who  made  me  feel  the  short- 
comings in  my  life,  in  my  lack  of  love  for  the  outcast 
as  he  did.  One  address  that  I  heard  him  give  on  love 
for  the  lost  has  moulded  my  whole  life  since.  He  was 
a  daily  demonstration  of  the  power  of  Christ  to  save. 
While  I  admired  him,  I  did  not  so  much  admire  him 
as  love  him.  I  have  met  very  few  men  in  all  my 
life  to  whom  my  heart  went  out  as  it  did  to  Samuel 
Hadley."  THE  WESTMINSTER. 

J67 


168     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

"A  PASTOR'S  TRIBUTE 
By  the  Rev.  J.  Wesley  Johnston. 

"  Among  the  varied  experiences  which  have  be- 
fallen me  since  entering  the  ministry,  there  is  none  that 
I  value  more  or  that  has  been  more  significant  in 
results,  than  my  pastoral  relations  with  Rev.  S.  H. 
Hadley,  who  for  so  many  years  was  the  superintend- 
ent of  the  far-famed  McAuley  Mission  on  Water 
Street,  and  the  superintendent  of  our  rescue  mission 
on  the  Bowery.  For  through  this  relation  I  have 
been  enabled  to  reach  certain  religious  convictions  and 
attain  certain  spiritual  phases,  to  which  I  had  hitherto 
been  a  comparative  stranger.  For  though  I  was  his 
pastor  in  the  largest  meaning  of  that  suggestive  term 
— enjoying  his  confidence,  sharing  his  hopes,  bearing 
something  of  his  burdens,  and  favoured  as  few  men 
have  been  with  the  secret  desires  of  his  soul — yet  in 
reality  he  was  my  pastor,  for  everything  that  I  was 
to  him,  he  was  to  me,  except  that  his  sympathies  were 
deeper,  his  love  richer,  his  wisdom  sounder,  and  his 
care  more  fatherly  and  protective.  Only  those  who 
have  stood  in  this  relation  to  him  can  realise  what 
it  means  to  have  such  a  man  in  his  church,  or  feel 
the  awful  sense  of  desolation  when  such  a  man  is 
taken  away. 

"  My  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Hadley  began  when 
I  was  pastor  of  the  Sixty-first  Street  church  in  this 
city,  for  he  came  to  see  me  and  talked  freely  of  the 
work  in  the  McAuley  Mission.  Some  years  later 
when  I  was  stationed  in  St.  John's  Church,  Brooklyn, 
1  visited  the  McAuley  Mission,  and  saw  for  myself 
the  wonderful  work  that  mission  was  doing.  But 


SOME    PERSONAL    TESTIMONIES     169 

it  was  not  until  I  was  appointed  to  John  Street  church, 
in  which  Mr.  Hadley  held  his  membership,  that  I  came 
to  know  him  with  any  measure  of  intimacy,  or  ap- 
preciate in  even  the  slightest  degree  his  extraordinary 
ability  and  power.  And  what  was  true  of  me  five 
years  ago  is  true  of  multitudes  now.  Because  he 
identified  himself  so  closely  with  the  McAuley  Mis- 
sion, living  for  all  these  years  in  Water  Street,  ming- 
ling constantly  with  drunkards,  criminals,  outcasts, 
and  sinners  of  every  class,  visiting  squalid  lodging 
houses  and  sinful  resorts,  going  everywhere  that  he 
might  find  those  who  needed  help,  many  have  imag- 
ined that  by  nature  he  was  fitted  for  just  this  service 
and  had  neither  taste  nor  aptitude  for  anything  else. 
On  the  contrary,  Mr.  Hadley  was  a  man  of  the  most 
exquisite  refinement.  Vulgarity  in  any  form  was  im- 
possible to  him.  He  had  a  keen  sense  of  the  proprie- 
ties. His  bearing,  whether  in  the  intimacy  of  private 
friendship  or  public  life,  was  of  the  highest  type,  and 
any  remark  or  experience  which  savoured  of  coarse- 
ness called  from  him  an  indignant  rebuke.  A  more 
noble  Christian  gentleman  it  would  be  difficult  to 
find. 

"  It  would  be  only  natural  to  suppose  that  coming 
constantly  in  contact  with  those  who  frequented  the 
missions  that  he  would  in  some  measure  become 
familiar  with  vice,  and  lose  his  fine  delicacy  and  sense 
of  feeling.  For  that  seems  almost  an  inevitable  re- 
sult. The  tendency  of  repetition  is  to  harden.  By 
seeing  suffering  every  day  the  eye  loses  its  tenderness 
and  the  heart  grows  indifferent.  But  who  ever  saw 
either  hardness  or  indifference  with  Mr.  Hadley? 
Who  ever  heard  a  rough  or  unfeeling  word  from  his 


170     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

lips?  Who  ever  knew  of  him  turning  coldly  or  neg- 
lectfully away  from  even  the  most  vicious  and  de- 
graded? He  was  the  embodiment  of  chivalry  to  lost 
women.  He  was  the  soul  of  kindness  to  dissolute  men. 
His  smile,  though  tear-shot,  was  that  of  a  mother  when 
wayward  girls  wandered  into  the  Mission  from  the 
streets.  His  hand,  though  trembling  with  emotion, 
was  that  of  a  father  when  the  weary,  repentant  prodi- 
gal came  forward  to  the  mourners'  bench.  How  he 
kept  so  sweet,  so  patient,  so  tender,  so  pitiful  can  never 
be  explained,  for  the  secret  lay  between  him  and  God. 
But  it  must  have  cost  him  nights  of  prayer,  days  of 
anguish,  times  of  unutterable  sorrow.  Yet  no  matter 
what  it  cost  it  yielded  a  splendid  return,  for  it  can  be 
said  of  him  as  of  the  Master  whom  he  ardently  loved, 
'  He  was  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities.' 

"  But  there  was  one  phase  of  Mr.  Hadley's  work 
concerning  which  comparatively  little  has  been  said, 
yet  it  is  of  supreme  importance — his  close  relation  and 
intense  sympathy  with  the  church. 

"  As  a  rule  men  who  lead  off  in  reforms,  whether 
social  or  philanthropic,  rarely  identify  themselves  defi- 
nitely with  the  church.  For  some  reason,  possibly 
because  they  think  the  church  is  failing  in  its  duty,  or 
is  not  keenly  alive  to  the  cause  dear  to  their  hearts, 
they  are  often  open  in  their  denouncement,  and  at 
times  seem  frankly  hostile  to  both  churches  and  minis- 
ters. Hence  it  is  not  unusual  to  hear  of  the  exclusive- 
ness  of  the  church ;  the  pride,  the  formality,  the 
indifference  of  the  church ;  the  carelessness  of  the 
church  with  regard  to  the  condition  of  the  outcast 
and  the  poor;  and  the  chill  welcome  the  church  has 
for  those  who  are  not  of  the  prosperous  and  favoured 


SOME    PERSONAL    TESTIMONIES     171 

class.  Indeed,  it  is  more  than  probable  that  much  of 
the  present  feeling  of  distinction  between  the  rich  and 
the  poor,  and  the  supposed  failure  of  the  church  to 
reach  the  great  masses  of  the  working  people  is  fos- 
tered by  these  so-called  reformers  who  have  made 
the  church  the  target  for  foolish  and  harmful  criti- 
cism. 

"  But  Mr.  Hadley  took  exactly  the  opposite  course. 
The  Mission  on  Water  Street  and  the  Rescue  Hall  on 
the  Bowery  were  not  regarded  by  him  as  separate  in- 
stitutions to  which  men  might  come  because  they 
would  not  be  received  elsewhere,  but  merely  as  door- 
ways leading  into  the  great  church  of  Christ.  Hence 
with  an  insistence  which  was  evident  at  every  service 
he  made  it  very  clear  that  no  reform  in  personal 
habits,  no  abandonment  of  drunkenness,  no  promise  or 
pledge  of  amendment  was  complete  unless  the  vows 
for  such  reform  were  sealed  before  the  altars  of  the 
church. 

"  No  man  for  half  a  century  has  done  so  much  to 
bring  the  poor  and  outcast  into  close  vital  relations  to 
the  church  as  Mr.  Hadley.  There  is  not  a  church  in 
this  city,  or  in  this  country,  but  is  under  profound 
obligations  to  him  for  the  service  he  has  rendered. 
Had  he  so  desired,  with  the  immense  following  he 
had  throughout  the  nation,  and  with  his  extraordinary 
gifts  of  speech  and  his  power  to  awaken  popular  sym- 
pathy, he  could  easily  have  founded  a  Rescue  Mission 
Church,  and  thus  created  a  feeling  that  the  church 
generally  cared  nothing  for  the  wayward,  the  drunken 
or  the  poor.  But  his  love  for  the  church  and  his 
splendid  faith  in  the  gospel  it  proclaimed,  led  him  to 
cast  the  entire  weight  of  his  influence  and  the  force 


172     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

of  his  personality  to  the  church  of  Christ,  and  he  con- 
tended boldly  that  any  pledge  or  promise,  no  matter 
how  solemnly  it  was  made,  was  only  as  a  house  built 
upon  the  sand,  unless  it  centred  itself  in  the  Gospel 
and  church  of  our  blessed  Lord. 

"  In  connection  with  this  it  needs  to  be  said  that 
while  he  was  most  desirous  that  the  Mission  converts 
unite  with  the  church,  he  made  it  very  clear  to  them 
that  a  change,  a  definite  change  of  life  and  heart,  was 
essential.  The  mere  fact  of  raising  the  hand  for 
prayers  or  coming  forward  to  the  seekers'  bench  and 
there  professing  conversion,  did  not  in  his  mind  fit  a 
man  for  church  membership.  He  looked  for  and  re- 
quired an  intelligent  faith,  not  simply  in  the  Gospel, 
which  is  often  an  unmeaning  phrase,  but  in  Jesus  as 
a  distinct  personal  Saviour. 

"  To  Mr.  Hadley,  Jesus  was  not  a  mere  name  en- 
shrined in  a  creed,  a  vague,  mysterious  being,  throned 
above  principalities  and  powers,  beyond  the  reach  of 
sinful  men,  but  an  actual  person,  who  came  into  his 
life  with  a  vividness  akin  to  that  of  a  bodily  presence, 
and  whose  absolute  existence  was  as  positive  as  that 
of  his  own. 

"And  if  anyone  is  looking  for  the  secret  of  Mr. 
Hadley 's  wonderful  success,  the  source  of  his  unfail- 
ing sympathy,  the  cause  of  his  deep,  forgiving  grace, 
which  not  even  the  seventy  times  seven  could  exhaust, 
or  the  inspiration  of  his  ceaseless,  tireless  ministry, 
it  all  can  be  summed  up  in  the  fact  that  his  religion 
was  not  a  creed,  not  a  catechism,  not  a  summary  of 
Christian  doctrines,  not  an  observance  of  church 
duties,  but  a  firm  realisation  of  Christ  as  a  person, 
with  whom  he  had  conscious  communion,  and  from 


SOME    PERSONAL    TESTIMONIES     173 

whom  he  received  blessings  as  clearly  as  from  the 
hand  of  a  friend. 

"  Yet  there  was  not  the  slightest  tinge  of  fanaticism 
in  his  religious  life.  He  was  singularly  well  poised, 
steady,  calm,  strong  in  all  matters  pertaining  to  re- 
ligion. Seeing  what  he  saw  most  every  day;  hearing 
the  testimonies  of  multitudes  of  men  who  through  his 
ministry  had  been  gloriously  converted ;  living  in  an 
atmosphere  of  constant  revival,  it  would  not  have  been 
surprising  if  in  time  something  of  extravagance,  un- 
wise excitement,  tendencies  towards  mysticism,  had 
been  apparent. 

"  But  instead  of  being  elated  by  his  success,  or  af- 
fected by  the  popularity  he  attained,  he  became  in- 
creasingly humble,  and  his  utter  dependence  upon  God 
was  daily  more  manifest. 

"  And  this  spirit  he  sought  with  all  earnestness  to 
impress  upon  the  Mission  converts.  Their  help,  their 
only  help,  he  insisted,  was  God.  Anything  else  would 
fail  them.  They  must  pray.  They  must  read  their 
Bibles.  They  must  maintain  constant  communion  with 
Jesus.  They  must  be  deeply  religious.  They  must 
rest  with  absolute  faith  on  the  promises  of  God.  If 
they  trusted  in  God,  their  old  appetites,  lusts,  desires, 
temptations,  no  matter  how  powerful  in  the  old  life, 
would  not  longer  have  dominion  over  them.  In  this 
way  he  made  religion  a  real  thing.  He  had  no  place 
for  theories  in  his  Mission.  God,  heaven,  hell,  sin, 
Christ,  salvation,  the  power  of  prayer,  the  indwelling 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  grace  for  even  the  most  abandoned 
and  degraded,  were  tremendous  verities  with  him,  and 
he  made  them  the  essentials  of  his  ministry.  No  won- 
der, therefore,  that  so  many  of  his  converts  remain 


174     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF   WATER    STREET 

faithful.  He  made  religion  to  them  as  real  as  it  was 
to  himself.  He  brought  them  face  to  face  with  Jesus 
as  a  personal  Saviour,  through  whom  alone  they  could 
obtain  salvation. 

*'  Now  the  service  he  thus  rendered  to  the  cause  of 
religion  is  simply  incalculable.  He  brought  men  back 
to  the  faith  and  earnestness  of  primitive  Christianity. 
He  wrote  anew  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles.  He  trans- 
ferred the  Upper  Room,  with  its  strange  manifestations 
of  the  power  of  God,  from  the  Jerusalem  of  two  mil- 
lenniums ago,  to  the  mission  chapel  on  Water  Street, 
or  the  Rescue  Hall  on  the  Bowery.  The  miracles  of 
Jesus  he  wrought  out  in  flesh  and  blood.  He  had  no 
doubts,  no  fears,  no  misgivings  concerning  the  faith 
once  delivered  to  the  saints.  He  could  say  just  as 
earnestly  as  St.  Peter,  '  We  have  not  followed  cun- 
ningly devised  fables,  when  we  made  known  unto  you 
the  power  and  coming  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  but 
were  eye-witnesses  of  His  majesty.'  Not  even  St. 
Paul,  when  standing  before  Agrippa,  could  relate  with 
more  startling  vividness  the  story  of  his  conversion 
than  he  could  tell  of  the  wondrous  night  when  Jesus 
appeared  to  him  and  gave  him  the  assurance  of  sins 
forgiven.  He  needed  neither  argument  nor  evidence 
to  convince  him  as  to  the  reality  of  miracles,  for  he 
had  the  witness  in  himself.  And  his  life  gave  glorious 
proof  of  what  he  declared,  for  it  was  blameless,  pure, 
upright,  honest,  consecrated  to  the  saving  of  his  fel- 
low-men, and  like  that  of  the  Christ  who  had  ap- 
peared to  him,  spent  ministering  to  the  poor,  caring 
for  the  outcasts  and  redeeming  the  lost  from  the 
bondage  of  sin  and  death. 

"  Thank  God  for  such  a  man,  such  a  ministry,  such 


SOME    PERSONAL    TESTIMONIES     175 

a  life !  Thank  God  for  such  a  work  as  he  was  able  to 
do,  and  for  such  a  record  as  he  has  left  behind !  But 
surely  such  a  work  cannot  stop  now.  Never  was  the 
call  so  loud  or  the  need  so  urgent.  There  are  multi- 
tudes in  the  valley,  not  of  decision,  but  of  crime, 
poverty,  shame,  drunkenness,  despair.  And  they  can- 
not save  themselves.  The  chains  of  habit  are  upon 
them.  The  fetters  of  appetite  bind  them.  The  prisons 
of  despair  enclose  them.  The  memories  of  sin  haunt 
them.  We  do  well  then  to  pray  that  God  will  raise 
up  other  men  of  the  same  type  as  Samuel  H.  Hadley 
— gracious,  tender,  winning,  loving — and  thus  carry 
on  the  work  to  which  Jesus  gave  himself — seeking 
and  saving  the  lost." 

Mr.  Hadley  was  frequently  invited  to  speak  to 
students.  Among  the  invitations  he  prized  most 
highly  was  one  that  came  to  him  almost  annually 
during  the  last  years  of  his  life  to  address  the  pro- 
fessors and  students  of  the  University  of  Pennsyl- 
vania. While  on  one  of  these  visits  he  was  invited  to 
speak  at  the  Garrick  Theatre,  and  concerning  this 
meeting  the  following  was  written : 

"  A  REPORTER'S  APPRECIATION 
By  William  T.  Ellis 

"  S.  H.  Hadley,  known  to  the  Bowery  and  the  un- 
derworld generally  as  '  Hopp  '  Hadley,  superintendent 
of  the  old  Jerry  McAuley  Mission,  New  York,  to 
the  reading  public  as  the  author  of  a  recent  unique 
volume,  alive  with  human  interest,  '  Down  in  Water 
Street/  and  to  church  folks  generally  as  the  country's 
foremost  exponent  of  religious  work  for  outcasts,  ad- 


176     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

dressed  a  Philadelphia  audience  yesterday  noon  in  the 
Garrick  Theatre,  under  the  auspices  of  the  Interde- 
nominational Committee  for  Work  outside  of  the 
Churches,  which  is  holding  a  series  of  noon  theatre 
meetings  for  business  people  on  Thursday,  a  series 
for  workingmen  on  Sunday  afternoons  in  the  Grand 
Opera  House,  and  another  for  students  on  Sunday 
evenings  in  the  Garrick.  To  this  last  named  meeting 
Mr.  Hadley  will  speak  next  Sunday  night. 

"  Mr.  Hadley  does  not  look  like  a  preacher.  No 
street  urchin  ever  yelled  '  dude '  after  him,  either. 
Until  he  smiles  he  might  pass  as  one  of  the  better 
grade  of  the  members  of  Tammany  Hall ;  but  the 
smile  shows  him  a  saint,  and  Tammany  Hall  has  no 
niche  for  saints.  When  he  speaks  he  displays  the 
New  York  tag,  which  twenty  years'  residence  on  the 
Bowery  has  engraved  rather  more  deeply  than  or- 
dinary. There  is  no  imminent  danger  of  his  ever 
being  called  to  a  professorship  of  rhetoric  in  what  he 
disdainfully  described  as  '  A  Tom  Paine  Club,  a  Theo- 
logical Cemetery.'  There  is  a  breezy  colloquialism 
and  unconventionality  about  the  man  which,  joined  to 
his  intense  earnestness,  won  for  him  a  rapt  attention 
from  yesterday's  audience,  such  as  more  polished 
speakers  do  not  often  secure. 

"  A    WAY   THEY    HAVE  ON   THE   BOWERY 

"  When  half  way  through  the  Scripture  lesson,  a 
portion  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  Mr.  Hadley 
stopped  to  illustrate  the  passage,  '  Him  that  taketh 
away  thy  cloak  forbid  not  to  take  thy  coat  also,'  by 
a  story  of  an  ex-convict  and  drunkard  to  whom  had 


SOME    PERSONAL    TESTIMONIES     177 

been  given  work  in  Water  Street  Mission  and  who 
promptly  stole  the  superintendent's  overcoat.  After 
the  resulting  spree  and  arrest  were  over  the  man 
returned.  '  After  every  other  place  kicks  them  out, 
even  the  gin  mills  and  the  penitentiaries,  for  we  take 
those  whom  the  devil  himself  doesn't  want,  they  come 
back  to  Water  Street — and  he  was  restored  to  his 
former  position.  Again  he  stole  another  overcoat. 
Again  he  came  back  when  out  of  jail  and  was  for- 
given ;  and  it  was  that  mercy  which  broke  his  heart 
and  made  a  man  of  him.'  Then  Mr.  Hadley  an- 
nounced his  text  as,  '  He  is  kind  unto  the  unthank- 
ful and  to  the  evil,'  saying,  '  I  know  most  of  that 
kind  of  Gospel.' 

"  WHY   HE  BELIEVED   HIM   THE  DEVIL 

"  The  address  was  far  from  being  a  sermon.  It 
was  the  recital  of  one  man's  life  story,  a  man  who 
commenced  '  with  the  best  drinks  that  could  be  had 
and  ended  in  the  gutter,  and  for  some  years  before  my 
conversion  could  not  get  a  nickel  without  stealing 
it,'  and  who  had  committed  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  forgeries  on  one  man  alone — an  outcast  from 
friends,  family,  respectability  and  honesty,  a  habitue 
of  the  lowest  gin  mills.  '  A  theological  professor 
once  asked  me,  "Do  you  believe  in  a  devil?"  I  said, 
"  Sure !  I've  seen  him  and  walked  with  him  and  lived 
with  him."  ' 

"  It  was  in  the  old  Jerry  McAuley  Cremorne  Mis- 
sion that  Mr.  Hadley  himself  was  converted,  twenty- 
two  years  ago.  He  had  had  himself  locked  up  for 
several  days,  that  he  might  be  out  of  the  reach  of 


178     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

drink.  '  My  first  prayer  was  in  a  police  station,  and 
I've  been  back  in  that  cell  just  twenty-two  times  since 
to  tell  the  Lord  what  I  think  of  Him.'  When  re- 
leased he  went  down  to  the  Mission,  and  met  Jerry 
McAuley,  'The  Apostle  to  the  Drunkard.' 

"  For  nineteen  years  Mr.  Hadley  himself  has  been 
superintendent  of  the  Mission.  '  Our  constituency  is 
made  up  of  lost  men.  The  churches  have  got  through 
with  them,  the  gin  mills  have  kicked  them  out.  Our 
Mission  is  the  lowest  downtown.  When  you  get  down 
to  Water  Street,  you  cannot  get  any  lower.' 

"  MIRACLES   ON    WATER   STREET 

"  Describing  the  work  of  the  Mission  Mr.  Hadley 
told  a  number  of  stories.  One  was  of  Phil  McGuire, 
who  before  entering  the  mission  had  'pawned  his 
shirt  for  ten  cents,  the  price  of  two  drinks  of  Fourth 
Ward  whiskey.  I  saw  that  old  bum  transformed,  in- 
stantly, from  a  thief,  a  drunkard  and  a  liar,  into  a 
clean-hearted,  upright  man,  who  for  years  thereafter 
lived  and  worked  in  the  Mission,  right  in  my  family. 
I  never  saw  a  man  more  careful  and  just  in  money 
matters.  His  last  act  before  he  died  was  to  make  sure 
he  had  accounted  for  some  money  he  held.  At  his 
funeral  there  was  such  a  crowd  of  those  who  loved 
him  that  the  house  could  not  hold  them  and  I  had  to 
lock  the  door — millionaires,  drunks,  preachers,  thieves, 
noble  women  and  girls  of  the  street,  redeemed  men 
whom  he  had  helped,  all  crowded  together — Water 
Street  had  not  seen  such  a  sight  for  years.  That's 
what  the  Gospel  is  doing.'  " 


XVI 

THE  FUNERAL   SERVICES  AT  WATER 
STREET    MISSION 

ONE  of  the  most  remarkable  funerals  ever 
held  in  the  city  of  New  York  was  that  of 
Mr.  Hadley  at  the  Water  Street  Mission, 
the  scene  of  his  victorious  life. 

There  were  present  great  men  of  affairs  and  poor 
wrecks  of  humanity  who  had  lost  everything  and  had 
passed  through  the  door  of  the  Mission  just  for  the 
privilege  of  looking  again  upon  the  face  that  had 
always  looked  with  love  into  their  own  wretched,  sin- 
ful hearts. 

There  were  prominent  ministers,  great  evangelists, 
society  ladies,  as  well  as  women  who  had  belonged  to 
the  under  world  in  other  days,  but  all  were  there  for 
a  single  purpose,  namely,  to  pay  a  tribute  to  the 
memory  of  a  dearly  loved  friend. 

From  the  beginning  to  the  end  there  was  not  one 
mournful  note  struck  in  the  service.  It  was  just  such 
an  occasion  as  he  himself  would  have  been  pleased 
with. 

The  singing  was  true  Water  Street  singing  and  the 
addresses  were  all  delivered  in  a  triumphant  tone  of 
voice,  showing,  that  the  Christian  hope  of  a  glorious 
resurrection  had  gripped  every  speaker. 

Mr.  Walter  M.  Smith,  one  of  the  Trustees,  and 
one  of  the  best  friends  the  Mission  ever  had,  as  well 

179 


180     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

as  a  most  devoted  friend  of  Mr.  Hadley,  presided  at 
the  services.  Without  the  least  formality  he  rose  and 
said: 

"  While  we  are  waiting  for  the  family  to  come  I  am 
going  to  ask  Mr.  Alexander  to  lead  us  in  the  '  Glory 
Song.'  "  With  this  simple  announcement  Mr.  Charles 
M.  Alexander,  who  has  sung  his  way  around  the 
world  and  into  the  hearts  of  a  countless  multitude  of 
Christians  everywhere,  the  most  remarkable  leader  of 
evangelistic  music  in  the  world  to-day,  stood  up, 
brushed  away  the  tears  from  his  eyes,  did  his  very 
best  to  control  his  emotions  and  then  said :  "  Friends, 
my  heart  is  so  full  this  morning  that  I  cannot  sing; 
I  am  going  to  ask  Mr.  Butler,  who  is  with  me,  to  sing 
the  verses  of  the  Glory  Song  and  we  will  all  sing  the 
chorus."  Mr.  Charles  Butler  responded  at  once  and 
the  famous  Glory  Song,  not  only  the  verses  under 
the  matchless  singing  of  Mr.  Butler,  but  also  the 
chorus,  thrilled  us  all.  It  was  wonderful  to  hear  the 
people  sing: 


"  When  all  my  labours  and  trials  are  o'er, 
And  I  am  safe  on  that  beautiful  shore, 
Just  to  be  near  the  dear  Lord  I  adore, 
Will  thro'  the  ages  be  glory  for  me. 

"  When  by  the  gift  of  his  infinite  grace, 
I  am  accorded  in  heaven  a  place, 
Just  to  be  there  and  to  look  on  His  face, 
Will  thro'  the  ages  be  glory  for  me. 

"Friends  will  be  there  I  have  loved  long  ago; 
Joy  like  a  river  around  me  will  flow; 
Yet  just  a  smile  from  my  Saviour,  I  know, 
Will  thro'  the  ages  be  glory  for  me. 


FUNERAL    SERVICES    AT    MISSION    181 

CHORUS  : 

"  Oh,  that  will  be  glory  for  me, 
Glory  for  me,  glory  for  me, 
When  by  His  grace  I  shall  look  on  His  face, 
That  will  be  glory,  be  glory  for  me." 

One  of  Mr.  Hadley's  favourite  songs  was  an  adap- 
tation of  words  to  the  music  of  "  Old  Black  Joe."  A 
quartet  of  his  friends  rendered  this  selection  with  most 
telling  effect.  At  Mr.  Smith's  request  Dr.  J.  Wilbur 
Chapman  offered  the  invocation. 

Miss  Bertha  Irene  Chapman  sang  "  The  Name  of 
Jesus."  It  was  one  of  Mr.  Hadley's  favourite  songs 
and  she  had  often  sung  it  for  him. 

Mr.  Walter  M.  Smith  said :  "  Dear  friends,  I  have 
been  told  by  our  dear  brother,  and  he  has  also  told 
it  in  his  book,  that  when  he  was  first  called  to  preside 
as  superintendent  of  this  Mission,  after  long  days  of 
prayer  on  the  part  of  himself  and  his  dear  wife,  they 
selected  the  fifty-eighth  chapter  of  Isaiah,  from  the 
third  to  the  twelfth  verses,  as  an  answer  to  their  prayer ; 
and  it  seems  to  me  that  nothing  out  of  the  sacred 
Word  could  be  more  appropriate  than  to  again  read 
that  lesson,  and  I  am  going  to  ask  the  Rev.  Dr.  Pier- 
son  to  do  this  for  us." 

Dr.  A.  T.  Pierson  said :  "  Before  I  read,  let  me  say 
with  reference  to  that  hymn  which  has  just  been  sung 
that  I  never  heard  a  man  speak  the  name  of  Jesus 
as  Samuel  Hadley  did.  It  has  had  new  music  in  it 
ever  since  I  heard  him  say  it ;  I  never  knew  a  man 
that  threw  so  much  heart  into  the  pronunciation  of 
the  name  of  Jesus  as  Hadley  did."  Dr.  Pierson  then 
read  the  portion  of  Scripture,  which  is  as  follows: 


182     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

"  Wherefore  have  we  fasted,  say  they,  and  thou 
seest  not?  wherefore  have  we  afflicted  our  soul,  and 
thou  takest  no  knowledge?  Behold,  in  the  day  of 
your  fast  ye  find  pleasure,  and  exact  all  your  labours. 
Behold,  ye  fast  for  strife  and  debate,  and  to  smite 
with  the  fist  of  wickedness ;  ye  shall  not  fast  as  ye 
do  this  day,  to  make  your  voice  to  be  heard  on  high. 

"  Is  it  such  a  fast  that  I  have  chosen  ?  a  day 
for  a  man  to  afflict  his  soul  ?  is  it  to  bow  down  his  head 
as  a  bulrush,  and  to  spread  sackcloth  and  ashes  under 
him?  wilt  thou  call  this  a  fast,  and  an  acceptable  day 
to  the  Lord? 

"  Is  not  this  the  fast  that  I  have  chosen  ?  to  loose 
the  bands  of  wickedness,  to  undo  the  heavy  burdens, 
and  to  let  the  oppressed  go  free,  and  that  ye  break 
every  yoke? 

"  Is  it  not  to  deal  thy  bread  to  the  hungry,  and  that 
thou  bring  the  poor  that  are  cast  out  to  thy  house? 
when  thou  seest  the  naked,  that  thou  cover  him ;  and 
that  thou  hide  not  thyself  from  thine  own  flesh? 

"  Then  shall  thy  light  break  forth  as  the  morning, 
and  thine  health  shall  spring  forth  speedily ;  and  thy 
righteousness  shall  go  before  thee ;  the  glory  of  the 
Lord  shall  be  thy  reward. 

"  Then  shall  thou  call,  and  the  Lord  shall  answer ; 
thou  shalt  cry  and  he  will  say,  Here  I  am.  If  thou 
take  away  from  the  midst  of  thee  the  yoke,  the  put- 
ting forth  of  the  finger,  and  speaking  vanity ; 

"  And  if  thou  draw  out  thy  soul  to  the  hungry,  and 
satisfy  the  afflicted  soul ;  then  shall  thy  light  rise  in 
obscurity,  and  thy  darkness  be  as  the  noon  day. 

"  And  the  Lord  shall  guide  thee  continually,  and 
satisfy  thy  soul  in  drought,  and  make  fat  thy  bones; 


FUNERAL    SERVICES    AT    MISSION    183 

and  them  shalt  be  like  a  watered  garden,  and  like  a 
spring  of  water,  whose  waters  fail  not. 

"And  they  that  shall  be  of  thee  shall  build  the  old 
waste  places ;  thou  shalt  raise  up  the  foundations  of 
many  generations ;  and  thou  shall  be  called,  The  re- 
pairer of  the  breach,  The  Restorer  of  paths  to  dwell 
in"  (ISAIAH  Iviii.  3-12). 

Mr.  Walter  M.  Smith  said :  "  Our  dear  friend  has 
told  us  that,  upon  the  occasion  of  his  first  meeting  as 
superintendent  of  this  Mission  before  he  came  down- 
stairs, he  looked  down  through  yonder  window  at  the 
gathering  throng  and  felt  appalled,  and  he  said  he  felt 
abashed.  So  he  went  back  into  the  little  room  at  the 
side  of  the  window,  which  he  occupied  as  his  office, 
and  falling  down  on  his  knees  he  asked  the  Lord  to 
give  him  a  token,  and  that  the  token  might  be  one  soul. 
He  said  the  reason  he  didn't  ask  for  a  score  was  per- 
haps that  he  hadn't  faith  enough  to  ask  for  more. 
But  he  did  ask  for  one ;  and  when  he  gave  the  invita- 
tion, a  single  hand  was  uplifted,  and  a  single  soul  came 
forward  and  was  saved,  and  that  soul,  dear  friends, 
in  the  shape  of  a  mortal  man  is  here  before  us ;  and 
I  think  nothing  could  be  more  appropriate  on  this 
occasion  than  to  ask  Mr.  James  C.  Edwards  to  give 
us  his  testimony  as  that  saved  man." 

Standing  beside  the  casket  Mr.  Edwards  said: 
"  Friends,  I  don't  know  what  to  say.  I  feel  to-day 
that  I  have  lost  not  only  a  friend,  but  a  brother. 
Nineteen  years  and  nine  months  and  eleven  days  and 
eleven  nights  ago  I  came  staggering  into  those  doors 
there,  a  homeless,  lost  drunkard.  I  had  been  a  drunk- 
ard from  my  boyhood.  I  stood  'way  down  by  the  door 
there,  drunk.  I  don't  remember  what  Brother  Hadley 


184     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

said,  or  what  prayers  were  prayed,  but  I  know  this 
much,  that  I  got  up  here  somehow  to  the  front  and 
one  dear  soul  came  to  me  and  knelt  down  beside  me. 
I  mean  Mrs.  Hadley,  God  bless  her.  That  night 
when  I  got  off  my  knees  the  desire  for  rum  and  every- 
thing else  evil  had  gone  out  of  me.  I  went  down  on 
my  knees  drunk,  but  God  saved  me  sober,  and  the  best 
part  of  it  is  I  have  been  sober  ever  since.  I  am  not 
a  bum,  not  a  tramp  on  the  streets  of  New  York;  my 
employer,  who  is  sitting,  on  the  platform,  can  tell  you 
what  I  have  been  since  then.  It  is  only  the  grace  of 
God  that  did  it. 

"  I  recall  that  when  Brother  Hadley  was  putting  up 
the  tablet  over  there  to  the  memory  of  Jerry  McAuley 
he  was  in  doubt  about  what  text  to  put  at  the  bottom 
of  the  inscription,  but  finally  decided  on  '  He  resteth 
from  his  labours  and  his  works  do  follow  him.'  That 
is  just  what  Brother  Hadley  is  doing  to-day,  resting 
from  his  labours,  and  his  works  will  follow  him.  I 
know  that  thousands  upon  thousands  will  miss  S.  H. 
Hadley,  even  if  it  is  for  nothing  else  than  the  kind 
word  he  used  to  give,  and  the  warm  '  God  bless  you ! ' 
and  shake  of  the  hand.  I  ask  you,  friends,  to  pray  for 
me  and  for  the  rest  of  us  in  this  hall  to-day." 

Mr.  W.  M.  Smith  said :  "  Friends,  one  whom  I 
know  to  have  been  very  close  to  our  brother,  and  who 
was  present  and  presided  at  the  meeting  to  which  I 
have  referred,  was  Mr.  R.  Fulton  Cutting,  and  I  am 
sure  we  would  be  glad  to  hear  a  few  words  from 
him." 

Mr.  R.  Fulton  Cutting  said :  "  This  hardly  seems 
to  be  the  time  for  many  words.  It  is  true  I  have 
known  Mr.  Hadley  since  he  first  took  charge  of  the 


FUNERAL    SERVICES    AT    MISSION    185 

work.  When  he  first  came  in  there  were  a  few  good 
people  who  distrusted  him ;  it  made  it  pretty  hard  for 
him  at  first,  as  it  always  does  for  a  man  who  is  sin- 
cerely trying  to  do  the  best  he  can.  But  he  replied 
with  the  only  unanswerable  reply,  a  life  of  consistent 
consecration.  He  knew  there  was  One  who  trusted 
him  all  the  time;  One  who  perfectly  understood  him, 
to  whom  he  could  tell  his  whole  heart.  But  Hadley 
found  a  great  many  men  in  his  after  life  who  had 
confidence  in  him,  who  would  trust  him  perhaps  next 
to  their  God,  because  they  knew  him.  He  was  one 
of  those  genuine  men.  He  spoke  his  mind  right 
straight  out. 

"Another  characteristic  of  Hadley's  was  his  in- 
tensely shrewd  common  sense.  He  was  a  deeply 
emotional  man,  as  we  all  know,  but  his  emotion  never 
carried  him  beyond  the  limits  of  solid  common  sense. 
There  is  such  a  thing  as  zeal  without  knowledge;  it's 
a  great  deal  better  than  knowledge  without  zeal,  but 
still  we  do  make  mistakes  sometimes  in  the  excess  of 
emotionalism.  Hadley  rarely  made  them.  A  man  of 
the  most  abiding  optimism,  he  trusted  all  that  came 
near  him  to  such  a  degree  that  he  conveyed  his  optim- 
ism to  them  and  made  them  trust  themselves  when 
nothing  else  outside  the  power  of  God  could  have 
done.  He  used  his  mind  as  well  as  his  heart  down 
here. 

"  Now  let  us  see  whether  we  cannot  make  his 
memory  a  living  thing  to  every  one  of  us,  to  go  with 
us  all  through  the  rest  of  our  lives ;  practise  something 
of  his  genuineness,  his  common  sense,  but  above  all 
his  entire  and  single-hearted  consecration  to  his  Mas- 
ter. We  will  honour  him  by  so  doing  as  we  never 


186     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

could  honour  him  in  any  other  way.  We  can  build 
monuments,  pass  all  kinds  of  resolutions,  and  do  all 
sorts  of  things,  but  the  monument  he  would  like  us  to 
set  up  is  a  monument  in  our  own  hearts,  the  influence 
of  which  shall  pass  out  from  our  hearts  into  the  lives 
of  others,  and  make  itself  to  a  certain  degree  the  re- 
embodiment  of  his  devoted  spirit,  to  go  out  and  try 
to  do  what  he  did  for  others." 

Mr.  W.  M.  Smith  next  asked  the  Trustees  of  the 
Mission  to  say  a  few  words  in  appreciation  of  Mr. 
Hadley's  life  and  work. 

Mr.  W.  T.  Wardwell  said:  "Dear  friends,  I  feel 
like  my  Brother  Alexander,  the  singer:  I  can't  speak 
to-day.  Whatever  I  say  I  say  with  a  sob  in  my  voice, 
and  I  only  want  to  say  that  I  loved  Brother  Hadley 
with  all  my  heart,  I  trusted  him  with  all  my  heart,  I 
believed  in  him  with  my  whole  soul.  Yesterday  when 
I  was  thinking  about  his  death,  wondering  why  he 
should  have  been  taken  away,  and  trying  in  a  dim 
way  to  understand  just  what  the  reason  might  be,  the 
thought  came  into  my  mind,  perhaps  after  all  the 
Lord  wanted  him  and  He  has  said  to  him,  '  You  have 
worked  long  enough  for  Me,  Hadley,  come  up  to  your 
reward.'  And  I  couldn't  help  thinking  what  a  joyous 
time  he  must  have  had  with  all  those  who  have  gone 
up  from  this  room  and  with  all  the  friends  he  had  in 
this  city." 

Mr.  W.  E.  Lougee  said :  "  It  has  been  said  by  one 
of  our  silver-tongued  orators  that  from  time  imme- 
morial it  has  been  a  beautiful  custom  to  mingle  with 
our  mourning  for  the  dead  eulogy  for  their  well-spent 
lives.  Eulogies  are  not  needed  in  the  presence  of  this 
gathering  to-day  for  our  dear  Brother  Hadley.  His 


FUNERAL    SERVICES    AT    MISSION    187 

life  speaks  of  what  he  did  far  more  loudly  than  words 
could  tell.  There  were  characteristics  in  his  life  that 
made  it  a  benediction  and  a  blessing  to  us  who  came 
in  contact  with  him  on  business  lines  as  well  as  the 
saving  of  men.  That  consuming  passion  for  lost  men 
was  shown  all  his  life.  '  Lord,  spare  my  life  a  little 
longer  that  I  may  patch  up  a  few  more  souls.'  Not 
for  his  home  or  family;  not  for  any  other  work;  but 
for  lost  men,  for  whom  he  had  given  his  life.  '  Spare 
me  that  I  may  patch  up  a  few  more  broken  lives.' 

"  Our  Master  was  once  approached  by  His  disciples 
and  asked,  '  How  often  shall  we  forgive  a  man,  until 
seven  times  ? '  Jesus  looked  at  them  with  that  won- 
derful compassion  that  shone  out  of  His  eyes  in  His 
love  for  lost  men  and  said,  '  Not  until  seven  times, 
but  until  seventy  times  seven.'  And  that  was  Had- 
ley's  life,  helping  a  man  when  human  patience  would 
have  been  all  gone ;  you  and  I  wouldn't  have  been 
patient  with  them  as  our  Lord  and  Hadley  were.  But 
He  loved  them,  and  He  had  patience  with  them,  He 
bound  up  their  wounds.  And  that  was  Hadley 's  life, 
and  that  is  the  life  that  appeals  to  us.  Is  it  worth 
much  ?  I  tell  you,  as  we  think  of  the  life  that  Hadley 
led  these  nineteen  years,  and  of  the  lives  he  has 
touched,  doesn't  it  inspire  you  to  a  deeper  consecra- 
tion, a  deeper  longing  for  lost  men,  so  that  when  you 
come  to  lie  where  our  friend  Hadley  lies  you  may,  as 
he,  be  loved  and  honoured  of  all  and  accepted  by  the 
Master  whom  he  served  ?  " 

Mr.  S.  W.  Bowne  said :  "  Dear  friends,  I  am  very 
glad  to  add  my  tribute  to  Brother  Hadley  on  this 
occasion.  When  I  heard  that  he  had  gone  to  his 
reward  I  felt  that  something  had  gone  out  of  my  life ; 


188     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

I  felt  a  loss  such  as  I  have  rarely  felt  even  among  the 
dearest  of  friends  and  relatives.  He  has  been  a  great 
blessing  to  me  for  a  number  of  years.  He  has  been 
an  inspiration  to  my  life.  He  has  made  me  a  better 
man.  And  I  feel  to-day  a  great  personal  grief  at 
Brother  Hadley's  passing  away.  He  was  a  dear  man, 
a  magnificent  man,  a  man  in  every  sense  of  the  word, 
and  with  it  all,  as  Brother  Cutting  has  said,  a  man  of 
great  common  sense. 

"  I  remember  when  we  talked  of  our  Mission  in  the 
Bowery,  after  looking  over  the  ground  I  rather  de- 
precated going  there,  but  he  didn't  agree  with  me. 
He  said,  '  No,  we'll  fill  this  place.'  He  was  right, 
and  I  was  wrong;  the  place  was  filled,  and  they  are 
doing  a  great  work  at  the  Bowery  as  well  as  here,  as 
many  of  us  know.  When  he  would  come  into  my 
office  for  an  appeal  I  never  thought  for  a  moment  of 
refusing  what  he  asked,  because  I  knew  it  was  the 
best  thing  I  could  do.  Friends,  we  have  met  with  a 
great  loss.  I  hope  the  Lord  will  raise  up  someone  to 
take  his  place.  We  can't  expect  another  Hadley  to 
fill  his  place,  but  may  we  have  some  strong  man  to 
carry  on  the  Lord's  work." 

Mr.  John  S.  Huyler  said :  "  Dear  friends,  I  with 
the  rest  of  you  feel  our  great  loss.  I  shall  always  re- 
member our  Brother  Hadley  with  great  affection,  but 
especially  for  the  fact  that  he  has  taught  me  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  religion  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  I 
remember  one  night  we  were  in  Northfield,  and  he 
was  going  through  the  halls  singing  '  You  ask  what 
makes  me  happy,'  and  it  was  beautiful  to  hear  his 
voice.  And  then  we  got  down  to  say  our  prayers  be- 
fore going  to  bed,  and  he  said,  '  Dear  Lord,  we  thank 


FUNERAL    SERVICES    AT    MISSION    189 

Thee  for  the  change  that  can  come  into  a  man's  life. 
Here  we  are  to-day,  surrounded  by  friends,  everything 
is  pleasant.  And  this  is  Thy  service.  How  well  I 
remember  that  when  in  the  service  of  the  devil  I 
wanted  two  cents  to  go  across  the  ferry  and  couldn't 
get  it ! '  It  was  that  simplicity  of  his  love  and  his 
realisation  of  what  the  Master  can  do  that  has  always 
been  so  helpful  to  us.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  being 
with  him  for  about  six  weeks,  day  and  night ;  we  ate 
together,  we  slept  in  the  same  place ;  and  wherever 
he  was  he  was  always  on  the  hunt  for  souls.  I  re- 
member that  at  the  Grand  Canyon  at  Colorado  Had- 
ley  was  very  much  impressed  at  the  beauty  of  the 
scene,  and  we  were  all  lost  in  admiration  at  it.  But 
still  Hadley  found  one  other  thing  there  that  we  didn't 
find.  I  happened  to  look  out  of  the  car  window,  and 
there  stood  Hadley  with  two  Indians,  their  two  hands 
one  upon  the  other,  and  on  the  top  of  that  was  his 
little  Bible;  their  hats  were  off,  and  he  was  raising 
his  heart  to  his  Jesus  for  those  poor  Indians  who  had 
never  known  anything  of  Him.  God  bless  the  memory 
of  our  brother." 

Mr.  W.  M.  Smith  said :  "  I  have  a  very  dear  friend 
at  my  side  who  first  introduced  me  to  Brother  Hadley 
and  I  don't  think  we  would  be  quite  satisfied  unless 
we  heard  a  few  words  from  him  who,  while  never 
connected  officially  with  the  Mission,  has  always  been 
its  firm  supporter,  Mr.  R.  L.  Cutter. 

Mr.  Cutter  said :  "  Dear  friends,  it  is  needless  for 
me  to  say  how  deeply  I  mourn  the  loss  of  this  beloved 
man,  but  his  loss  to  me  is  gain  to  him.  When  our 
blessed  Lord  was  here  the  Pharisees  addressed  Him 
in  terms  of  reproach  as  '  a  friend  of  publicans  and 


190     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

sinners.'  I  thank  God  He  was  such  a  friend,  for  He 
became  my  friend  and  Saviour,  and  I  am  trusting 
Him.  And  Hadley  on  the  same  lines  was  a  friend 
of  sinners.  Oh,  what  would  he  not  do  to  bring  the 
Gospel  of  Jesus  to  a  poor,  lost,  low-down,  suffering 
man  or  woman.  We  all  know  that  tender  love,  the 
quality  of  love  which  Jesus  had,  and  which  I  have 
never  seen  equalled  in  any  other  life  I  have  ever  met. 
God  bless  to  us  this  service  of  memorial  and  of  love, 
for  I  know  it  is,  and  may  we  all  be  permitted,  through 
the  salvation  of  Jesus  which  He  has  perfected  for 
every  man  and  woman  in  this  room  if  we  will  but 
accept  Him,  to  come  at  last  into  that  glory  where  our 
friend  now  is." 

Mr.  W.  M.  Smith  said :  "  There  are  probably  two 
hundred  people  in  this  room,  that  would  be  glad 
to  testify  of  their  real  love  for  our  dear  brother,  and 
to  the  saving  and  keeping  power  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  manifestly  impossible  for 
us  to  hear  from  all,  but  it  seems  to  me,  dear  friends, 
that  we  can  stand  on  our  feet,  and,  in  mute  eloquence, 
bow  our  heads  for  a  minute  or  two  and  ask  God  to 
bless  this  meeting  and  bless  every  soul  in  His  pres- 
ence. What  more  can  I  say?  I  can  only  say  this  one 
thing.  I  want  this  demonstration  from  the  congre- 
gation, that  they  love  and  revere  His  name  and 
that  they  will  consecrate  themselves  anew  to  His 
service,  that  they  will  put  their  arms  of  love  around 
those  who  labour  for  Him,  and  that  this  Mission  will 
go  on  and  on  and  on  as  long  as  the  world  exists  and 
dying  men  need  salvation.  Let  us  all  rise,  and  bow 
our  heads  in  silent  prayer,  after  which  one  of  our 


FUNERAL    SERVICES    AT    MISSION    191 

trustees,  Hon.  M.  Linn  Bruce,  Lieutenant-Governor 
of  New  York  State  will  lead  us." 

Lieutenant-Governor  Bruce  prayed  as  follows: 
"  Blessed  Saviour,  standing  in  the  place  where  Thy 
servant  laboured  for  Thee  for  so  many  years,  help 
each  one  of  us  to  consecrate  ourselves  anew  to  Thy 
service.  Help  us  not  to  weep  for  him  who  is  with 
Thee  to-day,  but  give  us  a  consciousness  of  the  re- 
sponsibility that  rests  upon  us  in  the  added  service 
which  Thou  wilt  require  of  us  in  that  he  is  gone ;  and 
may  each  one  here  bow  the  knee  and  the  heart  and 
the  life  to  Thy  service,  to  the  service  of  Thee,  Oh 
blessed  Christ,  for  whom  he  gave  his  life,  his  ener- 
gies, of  body,  mind  and  heart;  and  may  this  great 
and  glorious  work  here  which  he  has  carried  on  here 
for  the  salvation  of  men  be  carried  on  by  those  who 
remain.  Wilt  Thou  help  those  who  are  near  and  dear 
to  him,  whose  hearts  are  saddened  to-day  with  the 
comfort  which  Thou  alone  canst  give,  and  which  the 
world  cannot  take  away ;  may  they  feel  and  know  that 
he  is  with  Thee,  awaiting  their  coming ;  and  may  each 
one  of  us  day  by  day  live  nearer  and  closer  to  Thee 
in  the  hope  of  that  glorious  immortality  which  shall 
come  through  Thee  when  Thou  shalt  call  us  home. 
We  ask  it  for  Christ's  sake." 

Mr.  W.  M.  Smith  said :  "  Some  of  you  may  expect 
a  word  from  me  about  the  last  illness  of  our  brother. 
I  visited  him  several  times  at  the  hospital,  and  I  want 
to  give  you  one  or  two  messages.  Others  have  said 
how  near  he  has  been  to  them.  I  don't  think  there 
is  a  soul  in  this  room  outside  of  his  family  that 
cherished  his  friendship  and  love  more  dearly  than  I 


192     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

did.  He  visited  my  family  two  weeks  ago  last  Sat- 
urday, and  he  spoke  twice  on  Sunday,  in  the  afternoon 
to  a  congregation  of  men  and  in  the  evening  to  a 
congregation  of  young  people.  I  never  heard  him 
give  his  testimony  with  so  much  fervour  and  with 
such  marvellous  eloquence.  It  seemed  almost  as 
though  the  shadow  of  his  approaching  death  was  upon 
him.  We  came  to  New  York  on  the  Monday  morning, 
and  he  complained  a  little  of  pain ;  he  said  he  thought 
he  had  an  attack  of  his  old  trouble.  I  advised  him  to 
go  up  and  see  the  doctor.  He  thought  perhaps  he 
would.  But  on  Tuesday  he  came  up  to  our  store, 
and  had  a  short  talk  with  Mr.  Cutter  and  myself. 
He  said  to  us  as  he  left,  '  I  won't  ask  you  for  another 
cent  again  this  year.'  How  prophetic  those  words 
were.  I  saw  him,  as  I  have  said,  in  the  hospital.  He 
seemed  very  glad  to  see  me,  and  inquired  after  me 
when  I  left.  I  went  into  his  room  with  Mr.  Huyler. 
He  was  loath  to  have  an  operation  performed,  as  he 
was  afraid  his  heart  wouldn't  stand  the  shock;  the 
surgeons,  however,  insisted  it  was  the  only  thing 
to  do  and  that  without  it  he  would  not  live  five  hours. 
He  said  to  Mr.  Huyler,  '  Living  or  dying,  I  am  the 
Lord's,'  and  I  love  to  think  of  that  as  the  last  expres- 
sion of  his  heart  and  soul.  His  mind  wandered  a 
little  after  that,  and  whenever  it  did  wander  he  always 
spoke  of  Water  Street.  He  had  a  regular  Water 
Street  service  in  that  little  room  all  by  himself  and 
his  Lord ;  he  prayed,  he  sang,  he  gave  the  invitation 
just  the  same  as  he  had  always  done,  and  apparently 
he  was  perfectly  happy  in  doing  it.  I  don't  know 
that  I  ought  to  bring  a  personal  matter  in  here,  but 
somehow  or  other  my  heart  compels  me  to  do  it.  He 


FUNERAL    SERVICES    AT    MISSION    193 

was  one  of  seven  that  three  or  four  years  ago  formed 
what  we  called  our  own  little  circle;  and  we  agreed 
that  every  Saturday  night  as  long  as  we  lived  at  the 
hour  most  convenient  to  us  before  we  retired,  we  would 
each  ask  God's  blessing  upon  the  others  and  upon  the 
particular  work  in  which  they  might  be  engaged. 
That  circle  is  broken  so  far  as  this  earth  is  concerned ; 
but  in  talking  with  two  of  the  members  we  each  ex- 
pressed the  same  idea  that  we  would  never  ask  anyone 
to  take  his  place  in  that  circle:  for  we  expect  every 
Saturday  night  that  he  will  be  with  us  in  spirit,  and 
therefore  we  shall  go  on  until  there  is  only  one  left 
on  earth. 

"  I  wonder,  dear  friends,  if  there  is  a  single  unsaved 
soul  in  this  room?  I  do  believe  this  meeting  would 
not  be  blessed  of  God  unless  an  invitation  were  here 
given  by  the  side  of  these  dear  remains.  You  know 
what  he  would  have  said  if  he  were  here.  '  Twenty- 
three  years,  nine  months  and  twenty  days  ago  I  gave 
my  heart  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.'  We  are  going  to 
close  this  meeting  with  prayer,  and  I  want  to  ask 
anybody  in  this  room  if  they  feel  as  though  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  were  present  here  by  His  Holy  Spirit  to 
raise  his  or  her  hand,  and  by  so  doing  say  I  want  an 
interest  in  this  prayer,  and  in  this  meeting. 

Rev.  Ford  C.  Ottman,  D.  D.,  one  of  Mr.  Hadley's 
truest  friends,  closed  the  service  with  prayer. 

The  service  at  Water  Street  was  closed  by  the  sing- 
ing of  "  Oh,  it  is  Wonderful !  "  by  the  audience,  and 
of  "  I  must  tell  Jesus,"  by  the  quartet. 


XVII 

FUNERAL   SERVICES   AT  JOHN   STREET 
METHODIST    CHURCH 

ATER  the  services  had  been  concluded  at 
Water  Street  a  great  company  of  redeemed 
men  followed  the  hearse  bearing  the  precious 
remains  through  the  streets  of  the  lower  part  of  New 
York ;  following  these  men  came  the  Trustees,  a  num- 
ber of  them  New  York's  most  representative  business 
men,  and  following  the  Trustees  came  a  great  com- 
pany of  sorrowing  friends,  many  of  whom  could  not 
refrain  from  weeping  as  they  realised  the  loss  they 
had  sustained  in  the  going  away  of  this  man  of  God. 
Special  seats  had  been  reserved  at  the  old  John  Street 
church.  The  building  was  crowded,  the  audience  be- 
ing packed  out  into  the  streets.  The  services  in  the 
church  were  opened  with  prayer,  Dr.  John  Willis  Baer 
being  called  upon  for  the  invocation.  He  prayed  as 
follows : 

"  God,  our  Father  in  Heaven,  though  our  eyes  be 
filled  with  tears  yet  we  do  not  come  to-day  to  mourn 
a  defeat,  but  to  celebrate  a  victory;  and  although  we 
find  our  tongues  faltering,  yet  our  hearts  are  conscious 
of  the  same  abiding  faith  that  our  friend  had  in  his 
everyday  life.  This  will  be  for  some  of  us  a  strange 
world  without  him,  and  yet  we  must  go  on.  O  God, 
teach  us  how  to  love  the  way  that  man  loved.  Teach 
us  how  to  refuse  to  be  disappointed  in  man  and  never 

194 


FUNERAL    SERVICES    AT    CHURCH    195 

to  be  discouraged;  show  us  how  more  and  more  we 
can  have  so  much  of  Thee,  that  everyone  seeing  us 
will  see  Thee.  And  as  we  gather  here  at  this  casket 
side  this  noon,  we  turn  our  eyes  with  the  eyes  of  faith 
to  the  very  gates  of  heaven,  and  rejoice  that  with 
him  to-day  there  are  bright  stars  for  his  crown.  O 
God,  may  we  never  go  empty  handed  before  Thee. 
And  we  ask  Thee  that  every  word  that  shall  be  said 
and  done  here  now  shall  be  of  that  kind  that  would 
not  only  please  him  were  he  with  us,  as  he  is,  but  will 
help  us  all  in  our  lives  to  go  on  and  fight,  and  fight, 
and  fight  harder  for  Thee.  Be  with  everyone  that  has 
been  led  to  Thee  by  him.  Let  every  man  understand 
now  more  than  he  ever  understood  before  that  God 
expects  him  to  do  his  best  and  to  pick  up  this  work 
and  carry  it  forward  until  the  last  day.  Give  us  a 
continual  and  abiding  interest  in  it  for  the  sake  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Amen." 

The  pastor,  Dr.  Johnson,  asked  the  quartet  to 
finish  the  hymn  that  had  been  commenced  in  Water 
Street,  "  I  must  tell  Jesus." 

Dr.  J.  Ross  Stevenson,  who  read  the  first  lesson, 
said :  "  No  more  appropriate  Scripture  lesson  could 
be  found,  and  no  more  appropriate  commentary  on 
the  life  of  our  dear  friend  could  be  found  than  the 
I3th  chapter  of  ist  Corinthians,  which  I  shall  read." 

Dr.  Randall  J.  North  read  ist  Cor.  xv.  41-58  as 
the  second  Scripture  lesson. 

Miss  Bertha  Irene  Chapman  sang,  "  Thy  Will  be 
Done." 

At  this  point  Dr.  A.  T.  Pierson  spoke,  saying: 

"  There  are  two  ways  of  looking  at  such  an  event 
as  this.  One  is  to  look  at  it  as  the  close  of  a  life; 


196     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

the  other  way  is  to  look  at  it  as  the  beginning  of  a 
life.  Looking  at  it  as  the  close  of  a  life  I  am  inv 
pressed  that  there  is  not  a  man  living  that  is  adequate 
to  write  a  true  story  of  the  career  of  S.  H.  Hadley. 
I  have  never  known  a  man  that  equalled  him  as  a 
winner  of  souls.  I  do  not  believe  that  the  Church  of 
Jesus  Christ  in  this  country  has  sustained  so  severe  a 
loss  in  half  a  century  as  it  sustains  to-day.  Hadley 
was  a  Christian  statesman. 

"  There  are  seven  problems  that  confront  society 
that  the  wisest  men  in  the  church  and  in  the  state 
have  found  themselves  unable  to  solve:  the  problem 
of  drink;  the  problem  of  lust;  the  problem  of  crime; 
the  problem  of  labour  and  capital ;  the  problem  of  dis- 
tance between  church  and  masses ;  the  problem  of  the 
uplifting  of  American  negroes;  and  the  problem  of 
reaching  the  outcast  classes.  While  we  have  been 
talking  about  the  last  problem  Samuel  H.  Hadley  has 
been  working,  and  while  we  have  been  scheming  to 
solve  it  he  has  been  practically  solving  it.  God  has 
His  Hall  of  Fame,  but  no  human  judges  determine 
who  shall  have  a  monument  and  a  memorial  within 
it.  God  sees  not  as  man  sees;  man  looks  on  the  out- 
ward appearance,  but  the  Lord  looketh  upon  the 
heart.  But  He  gives  us  some  conception  in  His 
blessed  Word  as  to  the  conditions  of  a  place  within 
the  Celestial  Hall  of  Fame.  Those  are  counted  worthy 
of  a  place  there  who  have  a  simplicity  like  that  of  a 
little  child,  who  have  a  soul  humility,  and  are  great 
in  God's  eyes  because  they  are  little  in  their  own ; 
and  especially  those  who  are  willing  to  learn  the 
sweet  lesson  of  cheerful  sacrifice  of  self  for  the  salva- 
tion of  others.  I  submit  to  anyone  that  knew  Mr. 


FUNERAL    SERVICES    AT    CHURCH    197 

Iladley  whether  he  had  not  these  three  great  attri- 
butes and  characteristics:  a  childlike  simplicity,  a 
lowly  humility,  and  a  mighty  passion  for  human  souls. 
He  has  learned  that  suffering  is  the  price  of  service. 
If  ever  a  man  learned  the  lesson  of  cheerful  self- 
abnegation  it  was  Samuel  Hadley.  He  was  content 
to  starve  that  others  might  be  fed;  to  deprive  himself 
of  what  seemed  necessary  that  more  imperative  needs 
might  be  supplied.  He  would  take  off  his  coat  to 
clothe  a  naked  man,  and  he  would  give  away  his  last 
cent  to  help  a  poor  one.  But  in  nothing  was  he  more 
remarkable  than  in  the  inexhaustible  patience  that  he 
manifested  toward  those  whom  he  sought  to  help. 

"  I  said  to  him  one  day,  '  Hadley,  don't  you  often 
get  cheated  ? '  He  said,  '  Cheated  is  no  word  for  it.' 
'Does  your  patience  never  give  out?'  He  replied, 
'  Never,  by  God's  grace.  His  patience  has  never  given 
out  with  me.  If  a  man  beats  me  nineteen  times  I 
shame  him  by  trusting  him  the  twentieth.'  And  this 
was  the  simple  truth  about  this  wonderfully  Christlike 
man.  I  tell  you,  beloved,  some  of  us  who  have  perhaps 
been  more  conspicuous  before  the  public  eye  will  take 
a  back  seat  in  the  heavenly  mansions  and  see  him 
march  to  the  front  line. 

"  But  there  is  quite  another  way  to  look  at  this 
event,  as  the  beginning  of  another  life.  I  think  one 
of  the  severest  tests  of  the  genuineness  of  our  Chris- 
tianity is  a  funeral  occasion.  We  give  to  the  world 
a  great  deal  of  flat  contradiction  of  our  theories  when 
we  come  to  stand  about  the  bier  of  the  dead.  We 
profess  to  believe  that  death  is  the  vestibule  to  an 
eternal  life ;  that  to  pass  through  death  as  a  Christian 
believer  is  to  enter  into  the  presence  of  the  Lord 


198     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

Jesus  and  the  company  of  glorified  saints.  But  no 
outsider  looking  upon  many  of  our  gatherings  around 
the  body  of  the  dead  would  have  any  idea  that  we  held 
so  sublime  and  so  uplifting  a  doctrine.  I  have  been 
seeking,  especially  in  the  later  years  of  my  life,  to 
rise  to  an  attitude  where  I  could  make  the  truth  Jesus 
taught  us  in  Christian  faith  a  reality  to  myself  and 
those  about  me,  and  to  act  as  I  stand  beside  the  bier 
of  such  a  man  as  Hadley  somewhat  as  I  believe  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  would  have  us  act  in  the  presence 
of  the  death  of  a  saint.  We  must  not  forget  his 
infinite  gain  in  our  unspeakable  loss ;  we  must  think 
of  him  as  in  the  presence  of  the  Jesus  whom  he  so 
devotedly  loved.  '  The  lame  man  leaps  as  an  hart/ 
and  his  eyes  with  transfigured  vision  look  on  the 
glory  of  the  Christ  whom  he  loved,  adored,  and 
imitated. 

"  Now  there  are  four  Scriptures  that  I  would  like 
to  bring  to  your  notice  with  great  brevity,  but  simply 
by  way  of  suggestion.  They  let  a  flood  of  light  upon 
the  whole  subject  of  the  believer's  death. 

"  The  first  is  what  Christ  said  to  the  Sadducees.  You 
know  they  were  the  doubters  of  His  day ;  they  not 
only  believed  that  there  was  no  resurrection  for  the 
body,  but  that  there  was  no  disembodied  existence  for 
the  spirit.  And  Christ  said  to  them  by  way  of  rebuke 
that  God  was  called  the  God  of  Abram  and  of  Isaac 
and  of  Jacob,  and  He  said,  '  God  is  not  the  God  of  the 
dead,  but  of  the  living,  for  all  live  unto  Him/  and 
the  only  way  to  understand  those  words  is  to  under- 
stand that  He  represented  those  whom  we  call  dead 
as  living.  This  man  is  not  dead ;  he  never  lived  before 
in  the  highest  sense.  You  look  upon  not  Hadley,  but 


FUNERAL    SERVICES    AT    CHURCH    199 

Hadley's  discarded  mortal  tenement.  As  Socrates 
said,  '  You  may  bury  me  if  you  can  catch  me.'  It 
is  not  in  the  power  of  anybody  to  bury  S.  H.  Hadley. 
The  Hadley  we  love  is  there  [pointing  upwards]. 

"  Then  I  want  you  to  notice  what  our  Lord  said 
about  the  Father's  house  of  many  mansions.  And  the 
Father's  house  isn't  merely  heaven;  the  Father's 
house  is  the  universe.  Every  house  is  built  by  some- 
one, but  He  that  built  all  things  is  God.  The  Father's 
house  is  the  universe.  This  is  part  of  it.  There  are 
other  mansions  higher  up,  beyond  the  mist  and  the 
clouds,  and  death  is  the  leaving  of  the  lower  apart- 
ments and  going  up  the  golden  spiral  staircase  to  the 
higher  rooms.  We  must  not  think  of  death  as  the 
cessation  of  existence,  or  the  interruption  of  existence. 
It  is  the  change  of  sphere.  And  this  beloved  man  has 
simply  gone  out  of  the  low,  dark,  damp,  earth-room; 
the  curtain  has  fallen  behind  him,  and  he  has  gone  up 
the  shining  stairs  to  the  upper  apartments,  to  look  out 
beyond  clouds  and  darkness  and  shadow  on  the  eternal 
realities  of  God. 

"  Now,  there  is  another  Scripture  I'll  call  your  at- 
tention to.  I  will  not  tarry  longer,  but  it  is  the  most 
important  of  all.  In  the  fourteenth  chapter  of  Revela- 
tions occurs  that  marvellous  post-Pentecostal  view  of 
death :  '  And  I  heard  a  voice  from  heaven  saying  unto 
me,  Write,  Blessed  are  the  dead  which  die  in  the  Lord 
from  henceforth ;  Yea,  saith  the  Spirit,  that  they  may 
rest  from  their  labours;  and  their  works  do  follow 
them.' 

"  Now,  I  submit  to  anyone  who  knows  the  original 
that  these  words  do  not  properly  convey  the  sense  of 
the  original.  In  the  first  place,  will  vou  notice  the 


200     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

two  words  that  seem  to  us  synonymous,  '  labours  '  and 
'  works.'  They  are  not  the  same  in  the  English ;  they 
are  not  the  same  in  the  original.  '  They  rest  from 
their  labours ' ;  that  word  means  '  toils  that  are  vex- 
atious/ toils  that  imply  brain  sweat  and  brow  sweat, 
discouragement  and  difficulty,  toils  where  we  have 
all  we  can  do  to  get  through  with  the  work.  When 
the  Christian  dies  he  rests  from  all  his  vexatious  and 
toilsome  labour.  '  Works '  mean  '  activities.'  Ac- 
tivities don't  cease  when  a  man  dies ;  they  then  more 
gloriously  begin.  And  although  that  word  is  trans- 
lated '  follow,'  the  original  is  '  go  with  them.'  They 
rest  from  their  toilsome,  vexatious  labour,  but  their 
holy  activities  go  with  them  into  the  world  beyond. 
Do  you  suppose  that  man  is  idle  ?  My  friends,  he  has 
got  more  to  do  for  God  than  he  ever  had. 

"  Charles  Haddon  Spurgeon  said,  '  Do  you  suppose 
that  when  I  die  I,  who  have  preached  to  8,000  people 
on  every  Lord's  Day,  am  going  to  do  nothing?  I  may 
be  preaching  to  50,000  where  I  preach  to  5,000.'  Some 
work  God  has  for  S.  H.  Hadley,  and  his  activities  have 
gone  with  him  into  the  eternal.  What  his  work  is  we 
don't  know,  but  you  don't  suppose  that  God  is  going 
to  train  a  man  for  service,  and  then  just  as  he  is  ready 
for  service  take  him  away  from  all  spheres  of  service? 
Do  you  suppose  they  sit  up  there  on  golden  chairs 
meditating?  'They  rest  not  day  nor  night,'  not  only 
from  acts  of  worship,  but  from  acts  of  service. 

"  I  feel  ashamed  when  I  go  through  our  ceme- 
teries and  see  the  memorials  of  our  dead.  I  went 
through  a  cemetery  one  day  and  watched  the  me- 
morials, broken  columns  over  Christians'  graves, 
quenched  fires,  flowers  plucked  from  their  stems, 


FUNERAL    SERVICES    AT    CHURCH    201 

withered  and  fallen  to  pieces,  the  memorials  of  defeat, 
despair,  disaster,  and  destruction.  And  the  only  me- 
morial I  saw  that  was  fit  for  a  Christian  was  a  full- 
sculptured  sheaf  of  wheat  over  the  grave  of  the  worst 
man  I  ever  knew. 

"  That  is  the  way  our  Christian  faith  contradicts  our 
Christian  testimony ;  that  is  the  way  our  Christian 
testimony  contradicts  our  Christian  faith.  My  be- 
loved, let  me  give  you  as  I  sit  down  an  epitaph  for 
Samuel  Hadley.  I  would  like  to  see  these  words 
engraved  upon  the  headstone  where  his  body  lies : 

" '  When  the  ear  heard  me,  then  it  blessed  me ;  and 
when  the  eye  saw  me,  it  gave  witness  to  me;  because 
I  delivered  the  poor  that  cried,  and  the  fatherless,  and 
him  that  had  none  to  help  him.  The  blessing  of  him 
that  was  ready  to  perish  came  upon  me ;  and  I  caused 
the  widow's  heart  to  sing  for  joy.  I  was  eyes  to  the 
blind,  and  feet  was  I  to  the  lame.  I  was  a  father  to 
the  poor.'  " 

J.  Wilbur  Chapman  delivered  the  funeral  oration, 
which  was  as  follows : 

"  Dear  friends,  I  feel  we  have  come  to-day  to  pay 
our  tribute  not  only  to  one  of  the  greatest  men  that 
New  York  has  produced,  but  I  feel  as  if  I  had  the 
right  to  say  that  we  have  come  to  pay  our  tribute  to 
one  of  the  greatest  men  that  our  country  has  known  in 
a  generation.  We  never  could  measure  his  great- 
ness in  money,  although  I  suppose  very  few  men  in 
Christian  work  have  been  able  to  command  so  great 
means  as  he.  You  never  could  measure  his  great- 
ness in  fame,  as  men  speak  of  fame. 

"  But  if  you  measure  his  greatness  in  love  for  the 
lost,  and  in  a  passion  for  souls,  and  in  a  desire  to  be 


202     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

like  Jesus  Christ,  he  was  the  greatest  man  that  New 
York  has  seen  in  a  century.  And  I  can  say  with 
truth  to-day  that  I  had  rather  with  this  memory  be 
Samuel  H.  Hadley  lying  here  in  this  casket,  with  all 
these  sorrowing  friends  about,  but  rejoicing  while 
they  sorrow,  than  to  be  any  other  living  man  I  know. 
If  I  speak  briefly  to-day  you  will  attribute  it,  I  am 
sure,  to  a  full  heart,  and  if  I  should  speak  brokenly, 
I  am  sure  you  will  attribute  it  to  an  expression  of  the 
sense  of  sorrow  which  I  feel  this  afternoon. 

"  It  is  as  if  one  were  called  to  stand  beside  the 
casket  of  his  brother,  and  yet  he  was  more  to  me 
than  a  brother.  It  is  as  if  one  should  be  asked  to 
stand  by  the  casket  of  a  member  of  his  own  house- 
hold and  try  to  say  these  words,  for  I  think  I  loved 
him  as  I  love  one  of  my  own  flesh  and  blood.  He 
was  the  dearest  soul  I  have  ever  known,  and  the 
greatest.  For  twenty-three  years,  nine  months,  and 
seventeen  days  he  served  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  He 
was  great  any  way  you  may  look  at  him. 

"  He  had  a  great  ancestry.  The  blood  of  Jona- 
than Edwards  throbbed  in  his  veins,  and  I  suppose 
that  gave  him  something  of  his  concern  for  the  lost. 
His  father  was  a  great  man ;  his  mother  was  a  sweet, 
gentle  soul.  Dr.  Pierson  said  over  in  Water  Street 
that  he  never  had  heard  anybody  speak  the  name  of 
Jesus  as  Samuel  Hadley  spoke  it.  There  is  another 
name  I  should  like  to  add  to  that:  I  think  I  never 
heard  anybody  say  the  word  '  mother '  as  he  said  it. 
I  have  sat  by  his  side  in  the  railroad  train,  visited  with 
him  in  my  home,  and  never  tired  of  hearing  him  tell 
the  story  of  his  noble  mother.  He  was  a  great  man 
in  his  ancestry. 


FUNERAL    SERVICES    AT    CHURCH    203 

"  In  the  second  place,  he  had  a  great  fall ;  he  made 
a  sad  wreck  of  his  life.  I  have  heard  his  story,  I 
suppose,  hundreds  of  times,  and  I  never  have  heard 
him  tell  of  the  depths  of  his  shame  that  I  have  not 
felt  myself  shudder.  I  have  said  every  time  I  have 
heard  him  tell  his  story,  '  Surely,  that  cannot  be  so ! ' 
He  was  a  man  of  the  finest  spirit  I  have  ever  seen; 
he  hated  everything  that  was  mean  and  low.  And  to 
imagine  this  dear,  sweet  soul  as  having  ever  gone  to 
the  depths  of  sin  described  by  him  so  often  is  to  me 
an  inconceivable  thing.  He  made  a  great  wreck  of 
his  life. 

"  But  he  had  a  great  repentance.  Not  long  ago  I 
heard  the  Bishop  of  Connecticut  preach  an  evangelistic 
sermon ;  he  was  speaking  about  repentance,  and  said 
that  when  one  repented  he  had  to  go  back  as  far  to  God 
as  he  had  gone  away  from  Him.  But  I  thought  as 
I  sat  listening  to  the  Bishop  that  the  difference  be- 
tween coming  back  and  going  away  was  this,  that 
when  you  went  back  you  had  Jesus  with  you.  So 
this  man  wandered  far  away  from  Him ;  but  in  all  these 
twenty-three  years,  nine  months,  and  seventeen  days 
he  kept  step  with  Jesus  Christ  as  I  never  have  known 
a  man  to  keep  step.  He  was  the  most  like  Jesus 
Christ  as  he  limped  his  way  through  the  streets  of 
our  city  and  into  our  homes  of  any  man  I  have  ever 
seen.  And  I  had  rather  have  my  friends  say  that 
about  me,  and  so  would  you,  than  to  have  them  say 
that  I  was  the  greatest  man  the  world  had  ever  known. 

"  He  had  a  great  recovery  from  his  falling  away 
from  God,  and  the  great  recovery  was  manifested  in 
the  complete  transformation  of  his  nature.  I  never 
have  known  a  man  that  had  such  a  passion  for  souls.  I 


204     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

have  heard  him  say  that  he  used  to  swear  in  his  sleep. 
I  look  down  at  that  precious  face  to-day,  and  think 
of  those  lips  ever  framing  an  oath,  and  think  of  them 
as  I  have  heard  him  preach  the  glorious  Gospel  of 
the  Cross  as  I  never  heard  any  man  preach  it,  and  I 
say,  '  What  a  marvellous  transformation ! '  That  is 
grace.  I  never  have  known  a  man  in  all  my  minis- 
try, as  Dr.  Pierson  has  said,  that  would  go  as  far 
after  the  lost,  wait  so  long  for  them  to  return,  deal 
with  them  so  patiently,  and  love  them  so  persistently 
as  this  man  who  had  the  great  recovery  in  Jesus 
Christ. 

"  And  he  always  preached  a  great  salvation.  There 
never  was  a  man  too  low  for  him.  He  used  to  say 
at  our  Bible  Conference  that  when  men  were  kicked 
out  of  every  other  place  in  the  city  they  had  their  best 
welcome  at  Water  Street.  I  have  never  read  the  an- 
nouncement of  his  services  in  the  Saturday  papers 
that  my  eyes  haven't  been  blurred  with  tears  and  my 
heart  hasn't  given  a  great  bound  when  he  has  written, 
'  Everybody  welcome,  drunkards  especially.'  There 
never  was  a  man  so  far  away  but  S.  H.  Hadley  had 
a  Gospel  for  him.  There  never  was  a  woman  so 
depraved  in  all  this  world  but  he  had  a  word  of  cheer 
for;  and  there  are  women  to-day  in  this  city  of  New 
York  who  feel  as  if  they  had  lost  indeed  the  best  friend 
that  ever  lived  for  them  in  the  going  away  of  this 
saint  of  God.  He  had  a  great  recovery. 

"  I  have  been  told  that  at  the  foot  of  the  cliff  over 
against  the  Castle  Merrion,  the  castle  that  used  to 
be  occupied  by  the  Emperor  Maximilian  of  Mexico, 
that  away  down  eighty  feet  below  the  surface  of  the 
Adriatic  there  is  a  little  bit  of  a  crevice  that  has  been 


cut  in  the  cliff,  and  down  in  that  cleft  there  are  some 
of  the  most  priceless  pearls  that  are  known.  They 
belong  to  an  archduchess.  They  have  not  been  worn 
for  a  long  time,  and  experts  decided  that  the  only  thing 
that  could  bring  back  their  brilliancy  was  to  give 
them  this  continual  bath  in  the  sea.  And  these  ex- 
perts say  that  these  pearls  which  have  gone  '  sick,'  as 
the  experts  say,  are  now  coming  back  to  their  old 
brilliancy.  And  pearl-fishers  say  that  the  deeper  the 
water  the  more  priceless  the  pearl.  I  do  not  know 
whether  that  is  true  or  not,  but  I  do  know  this,  dear 
friends,  that  what  the  sea  is  doing  to-day  for  those 
priceless  pearls  of  the  archduchess,  Samuel  H.  Hadley 
did  for  lost  men  here  in  this  city  of  New  York.  Mr. 
Edwards,  I  wish  you  would  stand  up  just  a  moment; 
you  can  do  it.  This  is  the  first  man  that  Samuel  Had- 
ley ever  won  to  Jesus  Christ  after  taking  .charge  of 
the  Water  Street  Mission.  Stand  out  near  the  cas- 
ket, Mr.  Edwards ;  you  will  like  to  stand  near  him. 
And  if  we  had  time  this  afternoon  I  should  ask  all  of 
these  men  to  file  past  this  casket,  and  ask  you  to  sit 
and  look  on.  Oh,  but  he  preached  a  marvellous  sal- 
vation. His  was  a  great,  great  story,  this  life  trans- 
formed and  transfigured,  and  the  lives  of  hundreds 
of  men  in  and  outside  of  this  church.  Do  you  wonder 
that  I  say  to-day,  dear  friends,  that  I  consider  him  one 
of  the  greatest  men  that  our  city  as  well  as  our  land 
has  known?  Remain  standing  there  a  moment,  Mr. 
Edwards,  though  I  know  it  will  cause  the  tears  of 
some  of  you  to  flow  as  you  sit  looking  into  his  face, 
but  you  will  love  my  brother  more. 

"  The  first  time  I  ever  saw  him  was  in  a  dive  in  this 
city.     I  was  preaching  near  this  city,  and  one  of  my 


206     S.  'H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

friends  said,  '  Would  you  like  to  see  New  York  at 
its  worst  ? '  I  said,  '  I  would.'  He  said,  '  Come  with 
me,  and  I'll  give  you  a  guide.'  We  came  across  the 
ferry  and  went  down  to  the  lowest  part  of  the  city, 
and  there  I  saw  this  man  of  God.  He  said,  '  I'll  take 
you  into  some  of  the  saloons.'  I  saw  him  throw  his 
arms  about  a  poor,  drunken  man  and  cry  over  him. 
I  walked  with  him  into  a  place  of  ill-fame,  and  I 
saw  him  lay  his  hand  on  the  head  of  a  young  girl 
painted  and  sinful,  and  saw  the  hot  tears  rain  down 
his  cheeks  and  fall  upon  her  upturned  face.  I  saw 
him  go  into  one  of  the  lowest  dens  of  the  city  and 
take  in  his  arms  just  as  many  people  as  could  get  near 
him,  and  I  heard  him  sing.  It  was  the  sweetest  sing- 
ing I  have  ever  heard.  I  have  heard  Patti  sing,  but 
Patti  never  thrilled  me  as  this  man  thrilled  me  when- 
ever he  sang.  And  when  we  came  out  of  this  place 
of  sin  he  stopped  for  a  moment  under  the  gaslight, 
and  I  looked  up  into  his  face,  and  he  said,  '  Well,  I 
must  be  going  now.  Good-night.'  He  limped  away 
a  few  steps  and  then  he  came  back  and  took  my  hand, 
and  gave  it  one  of  those  pressures  that  were  so  peculiar 
to  him,  and  he  said,  '  Oh,  oh,  oh,  oh ! '  Haven't  you 
heard  him  say  it  ?  '  Oh,  oh,  oh,  oh !  brother,  as  long 
as  you  live/  he  said,  '  preach  a  Christ  that  can  save 
these  lost  people.'  And  if  there  has  been  any  tender- 
ness in  my  preaching,  if  there  has  been  any  special 
passion  for  lost  men  and  women,  I  owe  it  in  part  to 
the  saint  of  God  who  lies  here  so  still  in  our  presence 
to-day. 

"  The  last  time  I  saw  him  was  a  short  time  ago.  I 
was  sitting  alone  in  a  room,  when  I  heard  that  pecrliar 
thump,  thump,  thump  of  his  cane  in  the  hallway ;  the 


FUNERAL    SERVICES    AT    CHURCH    207 

door  opened,  and  in  he  walked,  the  sweetest  smile  on 
his  face  I  have  almost  ever  seen ;  and  he  said,  '  I 
thought  I'd  just  come  and  visit  with  you.  I  am  a 
little  bit  tired,  and  I  thought  I'd  just  like  to  come 
and  visit  with  you.'  While  in  the  city  he  told  his 
matchless  story,  made  his  last  appeal  to  men;  and 
as  I  went  to  a  midnight  meeting  in  the  theatre,  he 
threw  his  arm  around  my  shoulder,  the  last  time 
for  this  world,  and  he  said,  '  Good-bye ;  when  we  go 
south  together  I'll  give  you  three  weeks  of  my  time, 
and  we'll  see  what  we  can  do  in  Texas  to  win  the 
drunkards  for  Christ.  Good-bye.'  And  he  went 
away,  to  stay  until  I  see  him  with  you  in  the  resur- 
rection morning. 

"  Between  those  two  experiences  with  him  there 
has  stretched  out  the  most  beautiful  life  I  have  ever 
known. 

"  Add  one  more  picture  and  you  have  his  beautiful 
life  complete.  Mrs.  Hadley  tells  me  that  while  this 
precious  body  was  lying  in  the  Mission  last  night 
there  came  up  a  man  who  once  before  had  claimed 
to  follow  Christ,  but  had  drifted  away  from  Him,  and 
he  threw  his  arms  round  about  the  casket,  and  bent 
over  with  the  hot  tears  raining  down  his  cheeks,  and 
said,  '  Samuel  Hadley,  when  he  was  alive,  gave  me 
one  vision  of  Christ,  and  now  that  he  is  dead  I  want 
to  have  another.'  That  was  his  life.  Oh,  you  match- 
less man  of  God,  I  never  have  known  your  like,  never. 

"  I  want  to  close  with  just  a  word  by  saying  he  was 
a  true  friend.  Did  any  of  you  ever  have  a  better 
friend?  Jim  Edwards,  did  you  ever  have  a  better 
friend?  No,  and  no  other  man  ever  did. 

"  He  left  me  two  precious  treasures.     When  he  was 


208     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

sending  his  greetings  to  his  friends,  as  he  did  to  many 
of  you,  my  brethren,  he  spoke  my  name  with  those 
lips  of  his,  and  said,  '  Just  tell  Chapman  that  I  can 
do  him  more  good  at  the  Throne  than  I  could  do  him 
here.'  I  rather  imagine  I  shall  have  a  better  ministry 
from  to-day.  I  rather  believe  that  I  shall  preach  a 
sweeter  story  from  to-day. 

"  The  other  inheritance  is  this  [holding  aloft  Mr. 
Hadley's  familiar  cane].  He  doesn't  need  it.  As 
Dr.  Pierson  says,  '  The  lame  shall  leap  as  an  hart.' 
He  doesn't  need  it. 

"  He  was  a  great  example  of  love.  He  was  a  cul- 
tured Christian  gentleman.  He  had  that  rare  talent 
and  ability  of  going  down  to  lost  men,  poor,  depraved 
drunkards,  and  outcast  women,  making  them  feel  that 
he  was  one  of  them ;  and  yet  he  had  the  ability  of 
going  into  the  homes  of  wealth  in  New  York,  and 
he  never  crossed  a  threshold  but  the  richest  people 
in  the  land  didn't  feel  they  had  met  their  equal.  He 
was  a  true  gentleman,  a  true  gentleman.  He  was  a 
great  man. 

"  We  had  at  our  Bible  Conference,  where  he  came 
every  year  for  ten  blessed,  happy  years,  some  of  the 
greatest  men  that  this  country  has  ever  known.  We 
had  that  matchless  intellectual  giant,  Dr.  Francis 
Patten.  I  remember  one  evening,  when  Dr.  Patten 
had  just  lifted  us  up  to  the  throne  of  grace,  and  we 
had  almost  gone  through  the  gates,  Mr.  Hadley  came 
up  to  him  and  said,  '  Doctor,  some  of  those  big  words 
of  yours  just  about  flabbergasted  me,  they  just  about 
did.'  But  the  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks  as  he  said, 
'  But  you  know  I  love  Jesus  better  since  I  heard  you 
speak  than  I  ever  loved  Him  before.'  Dr.  Patten 


FUNERAL    SERVICES    AT    CHURCH    209 

looked  back  at  him  and  said,  '  Mr.  Hadley,  nobody 
moves  me  like  you,  nobody.'  The  ministers  all  loved 
him. 

"  Mr.  Bowne  was  right  when  he  said  the  world 
seems  lonesome  without  him.  I  don't  know  how  in 
the  world  we'll  ever  get  on.  New  York  seems  to  me 
as  if  a  great  part  of  it  had  moved  out.  It  must 
seem  so  to  you,  my  brethren ;  really  the  best  part  of 
it  for  me  has  gone.  We  have  a  sense  of  loneliness 
to-day  such  as  we  have  not  known  in  years.  Some 
of  us  will  never  be  the  same  again,  never.  Some  of 
our  family  circles  will  never  be  the  same  again.  Mine 
never  will.  One  of  my  children  has  prayed  for  Mr. 
Hadley  since  she  first  learned  to  talk,  '  God  bless  Mr. 
Hadley  and  the  Water  Street  Mission.' 

"  It  was  always  a  great  gala  day  in  our  home  when 
S.  H.  Hadley  arrived ;  from  the  smallest  baby  in  the 
household  to  myself  we  lined  up  to  see  him  come 
in ;  and  we  all  of  us  said,  '  Now,  so  long  as  he's  here 
we'll  not  any  of  us  work.  We'll  just  sit  around  and 
love  him.'  And  we  laughed  and  cried  and  all  but 
shouted  from  the  moment  he  came  in  until  he  went  out. 
We  have  a  broken  family  circle  in  our  household,  and 
I  suppose  the  most  of  you  have. 

"  There  must  have  been  a  great  commotion  in 
heaven  when  he  went  in.  Yesterday  must  have  been 
a  high  day  in  heaven.  The  first  Sunday  in  Glory ! 
Can  you  imagine  it? 

"  I  have  a  friend,  the  Rev.  Henry  Ostrom,  D.  D., 
who  tells  the  following  story  of  the  visit  of  William 
Arthur  to  this  country,  and  of  his  telling  the  students 
in  one  of  the  seminaries  about  an  old  friend  of  his, 
Robert  Sutcliffe,  who  was  very  dangerously  ill,  and 


210     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

an  old  friend  of  the  two  of  them,  Dr.  Mahan,  went  to 
see  him.  He  took  the  old  man's  hand,  and  he  said, 
'  Robert,  did  you  know  that  Benson  had  gone  home  ? ' 
The  old  saint  said,  '  Benson  gone  home  ? '  '  Yes,  and 
did  you  know  that  so-and-so  had  gone  ? '  giving  the 
name  of  a  mutual  friend.  '  What,  has  he  gone  ?  '  '  Yes, 
and  did  you  know  that  so-and-so  had  gone  ? '  naming 
still  another.  '  No,  has  he  gone,  too  ?  '  '  Yes,  Robert, 
everybody  seems  to  have  gone  but  you  and  me  of  the 
old  circle.'  Robert  Sutcliffe  lay  still  for  a  moment; 
then  he  opened  his  eyes  and  smiled,  and  said,  '  I  rather 
think  that  some  of  those  old  friends  up  in  glory  have 
met  together  and  they  have  been  looking  around  for 
me,  and  they  must  have  said,  "  Where's  Robert  Sut- 
cliffe ?  He  must  have  lost  his  way."  '  Then  his  eyes 
were  shut  for  a  moment,  but  presently  he  opened  them, 
and  the  sweetest  smile  came  across  his  features  as  he 
said,  '  I'll  soon  be  there,  and  I  can  hear  Benson  and  all 
the  rest  of  them  shouting  down  the  streets  of  Glory, 
"  Here  comes  Robert  Sutcliffe !  He  hasn't  lost  his 
way !  " ' 

"  I  think  it  was  like  that  with  our  beloved  friend. 
I  can  well  believe  Jerry  McAuley  must  have  met  him ; 
I  think  his  own  dear  brother  surely  greeted  him ;  I 
believe  the  Old  Colonel  must  have  saluted  him ;  I 
am  sure  '  Phil '  McGuire  must  have  thrown  his  arms 
around  him ;  I  imagine  that  all  the  redeemed  drunk- 
ards in  heaven  must  have  filled  the  arches  of  the 
Glory  shouting,  '  Here  comes  S.  H.  Hadley !  Here  he 
comes!  He  hasn't  lost  his  way.' 

"  Farewell,  clear  friend,  farewell.  One  of  these 
days  we  shall  meet,  all  of  us,  in  glory.  And  until  that 
day  God  give  us  the  passion  for  souls  that  you  pos- 


FUNERAL  SERVICES  AT  CHURCH 

sessed,  and  until  that  day  God  give  us  the  Spirit  of 
Jesus  with  which  you  were  filled.     Farewell." 
The  quartet  sang  "  The  King's  Business." 
The  Rev.  Dr.  Frank  Mason  North  offered  the  clos- 
ing prayer,  and  the  last  hymn  sung  was  "  Just  As  I 
Am." 


XVIII 
NOTABLE    MEMORIAL    SERVICES 

NUMEROUS  services  were  held  in  memory  of 
the  Superintendent  of  the  Water  Street  Mis- 
sion. Rich  and  poor  alike  seemed  to  delight 
to  do  him  honour. 

No  more  notable  service  was  held,  however,  than 
that  in  the  Fifth  Avenue  Presbyterian  Church,  one 
of  the  greatest  churches  not  only  in  the  Presbyterian 
denomination,  but  in  the  United  States.  The  church 
is  located  at  Fifth  Avenue  and  Fifty-fifth  Street  in  the 
heart  of  the  most  aristocratic  section  of  New  York 
City.  It  has  been  a  church  of  notable  gatherings,  but 
none  more  notable  than  this;  and  a  church  of  great 
pastors. 

The  Rev.  John  Hall,  D.  D.,  served  this  church  for 
years,  and  when  he  died  great  men  seemed  to  vie  with 
each  other  to  say  great  things  about  him,  but  nothing 
better  was  said  about  the  notable  preacher  than  about 
the  humble  servant  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Superintendent 
of  the  Water  Street  Mission. 

The  Rev.  George  T.  Purves,  D.  D.,  succeeded  Dr. 
Hall,  and  after  a  brief  ministry  passed  to  his  reward, 
but  the  work  of  so  distinguished  a  preacher  as  Dr. 
Purves  was  not  more  notable  than  that  of  S.  H. 
Hadley. 

The  Rev.  J.  Ross  Stevenson,  D.  D.,  is  the  present 
pastor,  but  Dr.  Stevenson  himself  confessed  that  to 

212 


NOTABLE    MEMORIAL    SERVICES     213 

have  had  S.  H.  Hadley  in  his  church  was  one  of  the 
greatest  privileges  in  his  ministry,  and  to  have  the 
memorial  service  held  in  the  Fifth  Avenue  Church 
was  an  honour  not  to  be  lightly  esteemed. 

The  following  is  the  order  of  service  printed  and 
distributed  Sunday  afternoon,  February  25,   1906: 

FIFTH  AVENUE   PRESBYTERIAN   CHURCH. 

FIFTH    AVENUE    AND    FIFTY-FIFTH    STREET 

Minister,  Rev.  J.  Ross  Stevenson,  D.D.,  19  East  66th  Street. 

Telephone,   150   Plaza. 

Assistant  Minister,   Rev.    George   H.   Trull,  600   West    U4th 
Street.     Telephone,  5444  Morningside. 

ORDER  OF   AFTERNOON    SERVICE. 

Four  o'clock. 
In  memoriam   Rev.   S.   H.   Hadley,  late   Supt.   of  the   Water 

Street  McAuley  Mission  and  of  Wesley  Rescue  Hall. 
Organ    Prelude — Allegretto   from  7th   Symphony.   Beethoven. 
Anthem — "  What    are    These  "         ....        Stainer. 
Hymn  948. 

Introductory  Remarks — By  Dr.  Stevenson. 
Address — By  Mr.   Walter   M.    Smith,   Chairman. 
Scripture   Lesson    and    Prayer — By    the   Rev.    Frank   Mason 

North,  D.D. 
Hymn — Glory  Song. 
Addresses — By  Lieutenant-Governor  M.  Linn  Bruce. 

The  Rev.  J.  Wesley  Johnston,  D.D. 

The  Rev.  Donald  Sage  Mackay,  D.D. 
Singing — Messrs.   Fitzgerald   and   Brown. 
Testimonies  from  Converts  of  the  Mission. 
Address— By  Mr.  John  Willis  Baer. 
Hymn  609. 

The  congregation  will  resume  their  seats  for  the  Bene- 
diction and  for  a  moment  of  silent  prayer. 
Benediction. 
Organ  Postlude — March  from  Saul         .         .         .       Handel, 


S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

It  was  one  of  the  most  miserable  rainy  days  of  the 
winter,  but  that  did  not  prevent  some  2,000  people 
from  gathering  in  this  edifice  to  pay  honour  to  their 
friend  and  helper.  For  two  hours  the  late  friend  of 
the  outcast  was  eulogised,  and  it  is  very  probable  that 
if  the  weather  had  been  fair,  there  would  not  have 
been  standing  room  in  the  great  church.  It  was  rather 
an  odd  audience.  Millionaires  and  their  handsomely 
dressed  wives  sat  alongside  of  the  men  of  the  street 
and  the  women  of  the  humblest  walks  in  life.  The 
men  from  the  Mission  and  also  those  from  the  Rescue 
Home  marched  to  the  church  in  a  body  and  occupied 
specially  reserved  seats  in  the  middle  aisle  near  the 
pulpit;  and  sprinkled  throughout  the  entire  audience 
were  plain  people.  But  some  way  or  other  all  class 
distinction  seemed  to  be  forgotten  in  the  common  pur- 
pose of  doing  honour  to  Mr.  Hadley.  Even  the  regu- 
lar Presbyterian  church  hymnals  were  laid  aside,  and 
instead,  some  of  Mr.  Hadley 's  favourite  gospel  songs 
were  sung  with  great  fervour.  The  quartet  sang 
"And  I  Shall  See  Him  Face  to  Face"  and  "The 
Glory  Song,"  and  the  vast  congregation  joined  in  the 
chorus.  There  was  no  note  of  desolation  in  the  ren- 
dering, but  rather  one  of  victory. 

The  Rev.  Dr.  J.  Ross  Stevenson,  the  pastor  of  the 
Fifth  Avenue  Presbyterian  Church,  made  the  introduc- 
tory remarks,  and  compared  Mr.  Hadley  to  St.  Paul 
the  Apostle.  "  If  Paul  should  come  to  New  York,  I  am 
afraid  he  would  pass  by  many  of  our  churches,  but 
his  chief  interest  would  be  in  a  work  like  the  Mc- 
Auley  Mission,"  he  said.  "  Mr.  Hadley  has  immor- 
talised the  Water  Street  Mission.  How  strong  were 
the  rays  of  mercy  and  of  hope  that  he  sent  forth  from 


NOTABLE    MEMORIAL    SERVICES     215 

that  lighthouse  of  God.  His  influence  was  not  con- 
fined to  the  Mission.  It  was  known  at  home  and 
abroad.  It  has  been  a  demonstration  to  the  city  that 
love  is  the  greatest  power  in  the  world.  Mr.  Hadley 
was  also  greatly  interested  in  summer  religious  con- 
ferences and  in  evangelistic  enterprises.  The  city  of 
New  York  owes  him  a  debt  it  cannot  pay.  The  work 
he  did  was  the  work  we  ought  to  do.  This  church, 
like  many  others,  helped  support  his  work.  It  was 
our  privilege  to  have  him  speak  here.  I  want  to  say 
that  I  count  it  one  of  the  greatest  privileges  of  my 
life  to  have  known  him  and  to  have  entertained  him 
in  my  home.  Mr.  John  S.  Huyler,  one  of  the  trus- 
tees, was  to  have  been  here.  In  the  absence  of  Mr. 
Huyler,  I  will  place  this  meeting  in  charge  of  Mr. 
Walter  M.  Smith,  also  a  trustee." 

After  Mr.  Smith  was  introduced,  he  said  among 
other  things :  "  I  regret  with  Doctor  Stevenson 
the  absence  of  Mr.  John  S.  Huyler,  for  many  years 
president  of  the  McAuley  Mission,  who  was  ex- 
pected to  preside  at  this  meeting;  he  is  unavoidably 
absent.  It  devolves  upon  me  in  behalf  of  the  family 
of  Mr.  Hadley,  and  of  the  trustees  of  the  Mission, 
to  thank  Doctor  Stevenson  for  his  kind  words,  and  the 
officers  of  this  church  for  the  privilege  so  courteously 
extended,  of  holding  here  this  memorial  service  to 
one  who  for  twenty  years  gave  'the  best  that  was  in 
him,'  yes,  his  life,  to  help  the  wretched  and  the 
lost. 

"  Samuel  H.  Hadley  endeared  himself  to  every  soul 
with  whom  he  came  in  contact.  He  was  always  wel- 
come in  the  home  of  luxury ;  the  thief  of  the  slums 
met  him  as  a  friend ;  they  all  knew  him ;  they  all  loved 


216     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

him  and  he  loved  them.  If  ever  a  man  walked  in  the 
footsteps  of  his  Saviour,  he  was  that  man. 

"  We  meet  here  to  honour  his  memory,  and  in  doing 
this  we  honour  ourselves." 

The  Rev.  Dr.  F.  Mason  North  offered  prayer. 

"  We  thank  Thee,  O  God,  for  giving  this  man  the 
willingness  to  go  where  Thou  didst  want  him  to  go," 
said  Dr.  North  in  his  prayer.  "  We  thank  Thee  for 
this  mediator  between  the  kindness  of  God  and  the 
misery  of  men.  May  the  influence  of  his  life  be  last- 
ing in  our  city.  We  cannot  tell  where  Thou  hast 
another  to  do  the  work  he  has  done.  Our  hearts  long 
for  that  deeper  life  and  simpler  faith  which  was  his." 

Lieutenant-Governor  Bruce  spoke  in  part  as  fol- 
lows: 

"  As  a  citizen  of  this  great  city  and  of  this  State, 
I  am  glad  of  this  opportunity  to  pay  a  tribue  of  respect 
to  Samuel  Hopkins  Hadley.  I  know  that  I  have  but 
an  inadequate  appreciation  of  his  wonderful  work 
and  his  heroic  service.  Only  the  shipwrecked  mariner, 
rescued  after  all  hope  has  fled,  fully  appreciates  the 
self-sacrifice  and  daring  of  the  life-saver,  who,  making 
his  way  through  surf  and  storm,  brings  hope  and  life. 
And  it  is  only  the  outcasts  around  whom  this  great 
man  placed  his  strong  arms,  lifting  them  out  of  the 
gutters  and  setting  their  feet  upon  the  rock,  that 
feel  and  know  of  his  mighty  works  of  faith  and  his 
labours  of  love. 

"  Samuel  II .  Hadley  needs  no  memorial,  no  monu- 
ment. Everywhere  throughout  this  broad  land  there 
are  thousands  of  men  whose  honourable  lives  testify 
to  his  greatness  and  his  goodness.  They  will  hold  his 
mgmory.  as  the  dearest  treasure  of  earth  and  will  hand 


NOTABLE    MEMORIAL    SERVICES     217 

it  down  from  generation  to  generation  long  after  many 
so-called  great  men  of  his  time  are  forgotten. 

"  But  I  wish  as  a  citizen  to  express  the  debt  of 
gratitude  which  I  feel  the  city  and  the  State  owe 
Mr.  Hadley  for  his  great  service  in  reclaiming  from 
careers  of  vice  and  crime  thousands  of  men  and  women 
residents  of  this  city,  and  restoring  them  to  law-abid- 
ing, useful  citizenship.  For  twenty-two  long  years, 
amid  the  heat  of  summer  and  the  cold  of  winter,  he 
stood  at  his  post  in  the  old  Jerry  McAuley  Mission, 
under  the  shadow  of  the  Brooklyn  Bridge,  rescuing 
the  perishing,  caring  for  the  dying,  speaking  words  of 
hope  to  the  fallen,  feeding  the  hungry,  clothing  the 
naked  and  pleading  with  the  wanderers  to  return  to 
the  Father's  house,  to  begin  a  life  of  honour  and  of 
self-respect.  No  matter  how  often  a  weak  one  fell, 
he  never  chided,  never  a  word  of  reproach,  never 
condemned ;  his  pleadings  were  always  words  of  love, 
of  encouragement  and  of  hope.  It  is  estimated  that 
more  than  75,000  men  came  under  Mr.  Hadley 's  per- 
sonal ministry,  thousands  of  whom  are  to-day  useful 
members  of  society. 

"  The  keynote  of  his  life  was,  '  Not  to  be  ministered 
unto,  but  to  minister.'  " 

The  Rev.  J.  Wesley  Johnston,  D.  D.,  Mr.  Hadley's 
pastor,  spoke  as  follows : 

"  He  was  more  my  pastor  than  I  his  pastor.  It 
is  only  those  who  have  known  what  it  is  to  have  had 
such  a  man  in  the  congregation  who  can  sympathise 
with  us,"  he  continued.  "  Many  philanthropists  have 
had  severe  things  to  say  about  the  attitude  of  the 
church  to  the  poor.  I  sometimes  feel  that  these  re- 
formers are  responsible  for  much  of  the  so-called 


218     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

class  distinction.  But  this  was  not  so  with  Brother 
Hadley.  He  brought  all  of  his  manhood  to  the  church 
and  took  much  from  the  church  in  return.  These  mis- 
sions, to  him,  were  simply  doorways  to  the  church. 
No  man  in  the  last  fifty  years,  not  even  the  great 
evangelist  Moody,  has  done  more  to  bring  the  church 
and  the  common  people  together  than  S.  H.  Hadley. 
I  declare  to  you  that  there  is  not  a  church  in  the 
United  States  that  is  not  indebted  to  this  man  for  what 
he  did  in  bridging  the  gap.  Hadley  never  considered 
any  man's  reclamation  complete  until  the  convert 
had  identified  himself  with  some  church.  There  was 
nothing  superficial  about  his  conversions.  Because  a 
man  came  to  the  mourner's  bench  and  said  he  wanted 
to  begin  over  again  Hadley  did  not  consider  that  all 
sufficient.  With  Brother  Hadley  there  was  a  living 
figure,  a  tremendous  personality.  And  he  was  not 
content  until  his  converts  had  been  brought  face  to 
face  with  Christ  as  a  living  Saviour.  And  he  never 
recommended  a  single  convert  for  membership  in  the 
church  of  which  I  am  pastor  until  he  had  some  guar- 
antee that  the  man  had  had  such  an  experience.  He 
laboured  to  make  Christ  a  real  man  to  every  man, 
and  a  real  Saviour  to  every  sinner.  He  taught  them 
that  it  was  not  a  reformation,  not  a  vow  or  a  promise, 
but  that  it  was  only  through  trust  in  Christ  that  they 
could  be  reclaimed.  God,  Heaven,  Christ,  Redemp- 
tion— these  to  him  were  fibres  that  entered  into  his 
very  being.  But  I  affirm  he  has  rendered  a  service 
to  the  church,  a  service  we  can  never  pay.  He  has 
rewritten  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and  he  has 
written  in  flesh  and  blood.  He  has  transferred  that 
which  happened  two  millenniums  ago  in  another  land 


NOTABLE    MEMORIAL    SERVICES     219 

down  to  to-day  over  in  Water  Street,  New  York.  And 
there  he  has  illustrated  again  and  again  the  marvel- 
lous display  of  God's  power,  which  was  shown  in  the 
early  church.  When  Saul  stood  up  before  Agrippa 
and  told  the  story  of  his  conversion,  he  did  not  tell  it 
with  any  more  reality  than  Hadley  told  of  his  mar- 
vellous regeneration.  The  question  is  now,  Is  the 
work  to  stop  because  he  has  gone?  There  are  mul- 
titudes more,  not  in  the  valley  of  decision,  but  in 
the  valley  of  poverty  and  sin  and  despair,  who  are 
victims  of  habit  and  the  slaves  of  appetite.  Who  will 
save  them?  God  grant  that  a  man  may  be  raised  up." 
The  next  speaker  was  the  Rev.  Dr.  Donald  Sage 
Mackay,  who  said  in  part :  "  There  were  three  great 
realities  in  Mr.  Hadley 's  life — the  reality  of  sin,  the 
reality  of  conversion,  and  the  reality  of  service.  The 
man  lived  a  life  of  apostolic  devotion  such  as  is  rarely 
known.  In  these  days  when  there  are  so  many  arti- 
ficial people,  and  when  so  many  are  flitting  their  lives 
away  on  non-essentials,  it  is  comforting  to  think  of 
a  man  spending  his  time  and  energy  as  Hadley  did. 
To  him  God  was  a  great  reality.  He  lived  in  the 
presence  of  God.  It  was  this  that  gave  him  power. 
He  knows  of  his  great  results,  but  we  don't  know  of 
the  hard  nights,  the  bitter  experiences,  and  of  the 
wrestling  with  God  in  prayer.  This  man  fought  his 
way  day  by  day.  Hadley  was  not  a  man  of  senti- 
ment, but  he  was  a  man  of  profound  emotion.  He 
could  read  character.  He  could  find  out  whether  a 
man  was  in  earnest.  His  own  conversion  was  a  great 
reality.  He  never  told  it  as  a  matter  of  history,  but 
always  with  new  life.  Scientists  are  discussing  the 
subject  of  conversion.  Well,  friends,  hard  names 


220     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF   WATER    STREET 

won't  do  any  harm.  But  with  Hadley,  conversion  was 
the  incoming  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  With  him  conver- 
sion meant  service,  and  it  should  be  so  with  every- 
one. No  conversion  was  allowed  to  lax  into  for- 
getfulness.  That  life  has  wrought  itself  into  the 
spiritual  history  of  New  York,  America,  the  world." 

A  portion  of  the  exercises  was  the  reading  of  a 
telegram  from  Rev.  Dr.  J.  Wilbur  Chapman,  a  close 
friend  and  warm  admirer  of  the  mission  worker,  and 
who  was  one  of  the  speakers  at  his  funeral. 

"  I  want  to  pay  a  tribute  to  one  of  the  princes  of 
men,  and  to  pledge  myself  in  some  way  to  help  carry 
on  his  work,"  wrote  Dr.  Chapman.  The  despatch 
was  sent  from  Florida,  where  Dr.  Chapman  was  at- 
tending the  Florida  Winter  Bible  Conference.  An- 
other despatch  was  read  from  Charles  M.  Alexander, 
the  great  evangelistic  singer,  who  said  he  regretted  not 
being  able  to  attend  the  memorial  service.  From 
Dr.  Reuben  A.  Torrey,  the  evangelist,  came  the  fol- 
lowing letter,  which  eulogised  Mr.  Hadley.  Both  of 
the  latter  messages  were  sent  from  Philadelphia, 
where  Dr.  Torrey  and  Mr.  Alexander  are  holding  a 
mission. 

The  following  is  Dr.  Torrey's  letter: 

"  505  So.  42ND  STREET,  PHILADELPHIA,  PA., 

"February  21,  1906. 

"  I  have  known  Brother  Hadley  for  many  years,  and 
I  have  loved  him  as  I  have  loved  few  men.  He  has 
taught  me  to  love  others  as  I  did  not  love  them  before. 
One  of  the  greatest  blessings  of  my  life  came  through 
a  talk  that  Brother  Hadley  once  gave  in  my  own 
church  on  Love.  I  think  I  have  loved  the  fallen  since 


that,  and  have  learned  to  be  patient  with  all  men  as 
I  never  was  before.  Not  only  his  words,  but  his  life, 
was  a  benediction  to  me.  I  have  had  the  deepest 
interest  in  his  work  in  New  York  for  years.  I  have 
rarely  visited  New  York  but  what  I  have  taken  oc- 
casion to  run  over  to  Water  Street  Mission  at  least 
once.  While  one  is  not  impressed  with  the  largeness 
of  the  meeting  at  Water  Street  Mission,  the  thing  that 
has  impressed  me  has  been  the  solidity  of  the  work. 
I  know  many  men,  personally,  who  are  leading 
earnest  Christian  lives  to-day,  who  were  once  the 
very  off-scouring  of  the  world.  I  have  many  a  friend 
who  found  Christ  at  the  Water  Street  Mission.  We 
have  had  a  number  at  the  Bible  Institute  who  have 
come  there  to  study  after  having  been  converted  at 
the  Mission,  and  they  were  men  that  we  loved  and 
honoured. 

"  I  got  a  great  blessing  to  my  own  soul  from  the 
book  '  Down  in  Water  Street,'  and  it  has  been  a  joy 
to  recommend  it  to  others,  who  have  also  been  blessed 
and  encouraged  through  reading  it.  I  think  that  the 
Water  Street  Mission  under  our  Brother  Hadley  has 
been  one  of  the  greatest  of  present-day  illustrations 
that  'the  Gospel  is  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation 
to  everyone  that  believeth.' 

"R.    A.    TORREY." 

But  the  most  pronounced  feature  of  the  entire  pro- 
gramme was  the  testimonies  given  by  some  of  the  con- 
verts of  the  Water  Street  Mission  and  of  the  home. 

"  Samuel  Hopkins  Hadley  led  me  to  Jesus.  I  loved 
him,  and  I  will  follow  him  to  eternity,"  said  a  manly- 
looking  fellow.  "  I  was  a  drunkard.  I  had  Christian 


222     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

parents.  When  I  was  a  boy  I  went  to  Sunday  School 
and  church.  I  took  to  drinking  whiskey.  This  got 
me  to  gambling.  Gambling  led  me  to  steal.  Eight 
years,  one  month,  and  two  days  ago  I  wandered  into 
the  Water  Street  Mission.  I  had  slept  off  two  drunks 
that  day,  and  I  went  to  sleep  in  the  Mission,  and 
Brother  Hadley  woke  me  up.  And  he  helped  me  find 
Jesus  that  night." 

The  assistant  superintendent  of  the  Mission  said 
that  seventeen  years  and  five  months  ago  he  was 
converted  under  Mr.  Hadley. 

"  Nineteen  years,  nine  months,  and  twenty-three 
days  ago,"  said  a  great,  tall  man,  "  I  staggered  into  the 
door  of  that  Mission,  and  I  heard  S.  H.  Hadley  tell 
what  Jesus  had  done  for  him.  I  have  learned  this 
lesson,  that  no  matter  how  far  down  a  man  is,  God 
can  pick  him  up." 

There  were  several  others  who  spoke  along  the  same 
line.  All  of  these  men  showed  by  their  appearance 
that  their  conversion  had  been  genuine.  Just  before 
the  closing  hymn,  which  was  "  Just  As  I  Am  With- 
out One  Plea,"  all  those  present  who  were  converted 
under  Mr.  Hadley  were  asked  to  rise.  Fully  400  men 
immediately  stood  up,  and  for  several  moments  there 
was  a  sacred  stillness.  They  responded  like  soldiers 
to  a  call,  and  they  were  proud  to  testify  their  leader. 

Dr.  John  Willis  Baer,  formerly  Secretary  of  the 
Board  of  Home  Missions  of  the  Presbyterian  Church, 
and  now  President  of  Occidental  College,  was  the  last 
speaker.  "  Have  you  ever  thought  how  Hadley 
hated  ? "  he  asked.  "  He  hated  sin,  and  he  hated 
saloons.  If  the  church  of  to-day  hated  the  saloon  the 
way  Hadley  did,  it  would  be  swept  out  of  existence. 


NOTABLE    MEMORIAL    SERVICES 

And  have  you  ever  thought  how  Hadley  loved?  He 
loved  men  back  to  Christ.  O  God,  that  we  could  love 
the  way  Hadley  did.  His  mantle  is  big  enough  to 
fall  on  all  of  us.  God  will  possibly  never  make  an- 
other Hadley.  I  believe  that  to-day  Hadley  sees 
you  just  as  you  are,  not  as  you  appear  to  be.  Oh, 
how  ashamed  to-day  I  am  that  I  did  not  do  more  for 
him.  There  is  a  great  responsibility  resting  on  every 
one  of  us.  God  has  blessed  us  with  certain  gifts, 
and  we  should  consecrate  them  to  His  service,  as 
Hadley  did.  Are  we  going  out  of  that  door  any  better 
than  we  came  in?  This  is  our  responsibility." 

The  newspapers  of  the  city  of  New  York,  without 
exception,  gave  an  unusual  amount  of  space  to  the 
telling  of  the  story  of  his  life.  The  New  York  World, 
under  date  of  February  26,  with  striking  headlines 
referred  to  the  memorial  service  as  follows: 

"RICH,  POOR,  GOOD,  BAD  WEPT  FOR 
HADLEY. 

"  Wealthy  Congregation  and  '  Sinners'  Club  '  Cry 
Together  at  Service  for  '  Angel.'  Memorial 
Services  for  the  late  Samuel  Hopkins  Hadley, 
Who  Died  Feb.  9,  After  Serving  Nineteen 
Years  as  the  Head  of  the  Old  Jerry  McAuley 
Mission  in  Water  Street,  Were  Held  at  the 
Fifth  Avenue  Presbyterian  Church  Yesterday 
Afternoon. 

"  No  greater  tribute  to  the  memory  of  this  friend  of 
sinners  could  be  found  than  was  presented  by  the  au- 
dience gathered  in  the  fashionable  church  to  listen  to 
the  eulogies  of  the  dead  man.  In  the  galleries  were  the 


S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

silk-clothed  congregation  of  the  church,  for  the  most 
part  wealthy  persons  who  knew  little  of  the  life  of  the 
mission  worker.  In  the  body  of  the  great  church  was 
gathered  a  strange  assembly  of  men,  women,  and 
children.  All  of  them  cried  during  the  service.  All 
of  them  wore  little  badges  to  tell  the  curious  that 
they  were  members  of  the  '  Sinners'  Club.'  The 
'  Sinners'  Club '  had  been  given  the  place  of  honour 
in  the  rich  church. 

"  As  many  of  the  '  club '  as  could  crowd  into  the 
seats  were  there.  Many  stood  in  the  entry.  Some 
were  reformed.  Many  of  them  were  not.  Many 
bore  hard  faces  left  by  lives  of  vice  and  sorrow. 
They  all  knew  Samuel  Hopkins  Hadley  personally, 
and  they  knew  what  he  had  done  for  their  kind. 
Whether  or  not  they  had  lived  better  themselves 
through  his  teachings,  they  were  there  to  testify  to 
the  memory  of  the  man  who  had  saved  so  many  of 
their  friends.  Reformed  thieves,  drunkards,  social 
outcasts  sat  together  weeping. 

"  Lieutenant-Governor  M.  Linn  Bruce  was  one  of 
the  speakers.  He  had  known  the  mission-worker  in 
life,  and  he  had  been  by  his  side  in  death. 

"  '  "  What  will  become  of  my  poor  men  ?  "  were  the 
last  words  of  the  good  man,'  said  Mr.  Bruce.  At 
that  the  ground  floor  cried  afresh,  and  when  the 
speaker  sat  down  several  shabby-looking  men  and 
women  arose  to  pay  their  tributes.  Their  tributes 
were  such  as  were  heard  in  the  Water  Street  Mission 
every  night. 

''  The  fashionable  congregation  for  the  most  part  had 
never  heard  these  simple,  impassioned  '  testimonials  ' 
before,  and  it  was  their  turn  to  cry.  The  Rev.  Dr.  J. 


NOTABLE    MEMORIAL    SERVICES     225 

Wesley  Johnston  and  the  Rev.  Dr.  Donald  Sage  Mac- 
kay  spoke  of  the  life  of  the  mission  worker.  Samuel 
Hopkins  Hadley  was  rescued  from  a  life  of  drunken- 
ness himself  in  the  early  8o's,  and  the  speakers  dwelt 
long  on  his  redemption  and  the  thousands  he  had  re- 
deemed. They  said  that  5,000  persons  had  been  made 
to  lead  better  lives  through  the  work  of  this  mission 
'  angel.' 

"  At  the  close  of  the  meeting  the  fashionables  from 
the  galleries  mingled  with  the  shabby  people  below, 
and  it  was  an  hour  after  the  services  ended  that  the 
last  little  group  gathered  around  members  of  the 
'  Sinners'  Club  '  and  went  away." 

The  New  York  preachers'  meeting  was  the  fourth 
religious  body  to  observe  a  memorial  to  Samuel  Hop- 
kins Hadley.  "Old  Water  Street,"  "Old  John 
Street,"  and  the  venerable  Fifth  Avenue  Presbyterian 
Church  had  held  solemn  services  of  holy  triumph  over 
the  memory  of  their  fallen  hero,  brother  and  saint. 
So  it  was  in  no  sense  strange  that  the  gathering  of 
preachers  was  swelled  by  the  best  of  the  throng  who 
had  assembled  also  at  these  other  shrines. 

The  memory  of  S.  H.  Hadley  levels  the  rich  and 
poor,  the  high  and  the  low,  the  fortunate  and  the  less 
fortunate.  And  on  that  sad  and  tender  occasion  all 
voices  joined  in  paying  affectionate  tribute  to  "  one 
of  the  greatest  sons  of  our  Christian  century." 

The  services,  which  were  conducted  by  the  officers  of 
the  New  York  City  Church  Extension  and  Mission- 
ary Society,  were  characterised  by  outbursts  of  ec- 
static song,  words  of  mellow  sweetness,  and  tears  of 
godly  joy  mingled  with  tears  of  sorrow  that  such  a 
conquerer  had  gone  to  his  native  heaven.  And  after 


226     S.    H.    HADLEY   OF   WATER    STREET 

a  series  of  well-chosen  eulogies  had  been  spoken,  the 
meeting  passed  a  series  of  memorial  resolutions  which 
pledged  all  to  fill  up  the  gap  and  make  up  the  hedge 
where  Brother  Hadley  had  fallen. 

"  A  sad  duty  devolves  upon  us  at  this  time  in  re- 
cording the  death  of  one  of  our  Board  of  Managers, 
the  Rev.  S.  H.  Hadley,  for  many  years  the  superin- 
tendent of  the  far-famed  Jerry  McAuley  Mission  in 
Water  Street,  and  the  superintendent  of  the  Rescue 
Mission  on  the  Bowery. 

"  Few  men  in  Methodism  were  more  widely  known 
than  Brother  Hadley,  and  few  have  left  behind  them 
a  more  enviable  record  as  a  successful  evangelist  and 
a  winner  of  souls  for  Christ. 

"  Having  experienced  when  in  the  depths  of  sin  a 
conversion  as  definite  as  that  of  Saul  of  Tarsus,  he 
was  able  to  preach  with  a  singular  power  the  blessed 
Gospel  of  the  grace  of  God,  and  point  lost  men  and 
women  to  One  who  could  save  to  the  uttermost.  For 
more  than  twenty  years  it  was  his  supreme  joy  to  tell 
the  story  of  redeeming  love,  and  this  he  did  with 
such  tenderness,  such  pathos,  such  simple  unaffected 
eloquence,  and  with  such  manifest  approval  of  God, 
that  thousands  were  translated  from  the  power  of 
darkness  into  the  kingdom  of  God's  dear  Son. 

"  To  the  poor,  the  outcast,  the  sinful,  the  aban- 
doned, he  was  as  a  chosen  apostle,  labouring  among 
them  with  a  love  that  was  divine,  a  tenderness  that 
was  Christlike,  a  sympathy  that  was  inexhaustible, 
and  a  patience  only  possible  to  such  a  nature  as  his. 

"  He  was  a  man  of  rare  quality,  a  combination  of 
exquisite  degree,  having  the  power  to  win  earnest 
attention  from  both  high  and  low,  rich  and  poor, 


NOTABLE    MEMORIAL    SERVICES     227 

and  never  failing  everywhere  to  impress  himself  as 
a  disciple  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  We  earnestly  pray 
that  the  great  work  to  which  he  so  faithfully  de- 
voted his  ministry  may  go  on  with  unabated  energy 
and  success. 

"  To  Mrs.  Hadley,  who  has  been  so  devoted  to  the 
same  glorious  work  as  her  now  sainted  husband,  and 
to  his  associates  and  helpers  in  the  Rescue  Missions, 
we  extend  our  sincere  sympathies,  and  pray  that  God's 
richest  blessings  may  rest  upon  their  labours." 


XIX 
HIS    MONUMENT 

SH.  HADLEY  has  left  many  an  enduring  monu- 
ment of  his  work.    He  was  the  immediate  suc- 
•  cessor  of  Jerry  McAuley,  and  built  well  upon 
the  foundation  laid  by  that  most  distinguished  of  all 
rescue  mission  workers  in  his  day.     He  was  also  in 
a  sense  the  founder  of  the  Wesley  Rescue  Hall,  the 
name  of  which  has  since  been  changed  to  the  Hadley 
Hall.     He    made    the    following    address    when    the 
founding    of    this    second    mission    was    under    con- 
sideration : 

"  I  have  the  honour,  the  pleasure,  to  be  in  the  old 
Jerry  McAuley  Mission.  We  seek  men  that  are  lost 
because  they  are  lost ;  for  no  other  reason  but  because 
nobody  loves  them.  I  was  once  speaking  in  the  peni- 
tentiary, and  I  asked  the  men  to  come  and  see  me 
when  their  time  was  up,  and,  oh,  how  many  of  them 
came.  I  have  been  ordained  a  Methodist  preacher. 
They  had  to  jump  over  the  discipline  pretty  strongly 
to  accomplish  it,  but  they  did  it.  I  preached  in  the 
prison  once,  and  I  invited  eight  hundred  men  to  come 
to  see  me.  I  have  said :  '  If  you  are  sober  men,  I'm 
glad  to  see  you,  and  if  you  are  drunk,  I'm  glad  to  see 
you,  too.  Come  without  spending  your  money.'  I 
say  to  them :  '  There's  a  man  who  wants  to  see  you 
down  in  Water  Street.'  I  never  give  that  invitation 
but  it  has  cost  me  a  thousand  dollars.  There's  hardly 
a  meeting  given  in  our  Mission  but  that  some  men 

228 


HIS    MONUMENT  229 

from  there  who've  been  invited  have  come  to  our 
place  and  been  saved,  and  are  standing  up  testifying 
to  the  salvation  of  God.  And  they  received  that  in- 
vitation in  the  penitentiary. 

"  Now  the  Methodist  Church  has  not  a  Rescue  Mis- 
sion in  its  whole  boundaries.  The  only  two  mission 
reports  given  here  to-day  were  in  Allegheny  and 
Pittsburgh.  Some  of  you  have  talked  about  raising 
debts.  When  you  were  boys,  your  dear  old  fathers 
were  preachers,  and  they  thought  of  only  one  thing 
— to  get  men  on  their  knees  before  God  and  shout- 
ing happy,  and  then  there  was  not  much  trouble  about 
raising  money  or  raising  the  devil,  or  anything  else. 
Now  we  have  forgotten  that.  In  our  city,  New  York, 
we  ought  to  have  on  the  Bowery — on  the  great  thor- 
oughfare to  hell — we  ought  to  have  a  Rescue  Mission 
— not  a  woodyard,  or  a  mothers'  meeting,  or  a  kinder- 
garten, but  a  Rescue  Mission,  a  great,  beautiful  place 
to  hold  four  or  five  hundred,  a  cheery  place  lighted 
up,  with  a  banner  outside  telling  what  is  inside,  that 
you  could  see  a  mile,  and  inside  a  lot  of  saved  men 
who  can  sing  and  pray  and  terrify  the  devil.  We 
ought  to  get  in  the  great  public,  the  great  unreached 
masses.  My  very  soul  aches  for  it — the  poor,  help- 
less, dying,  drunken  men !  Nobody  cared  for  me.  I 
didn't  know  a  Christian  in  New  York,  not  one.  And 
I  had  been  here  a  long  time.  That's  what  we  ought 
to  do.  Every  Methodist  minister  would  be  electrified 
by  it.  Some  would  perhaps  go  forward  for  prayers. 
They  would  get  really  converted. 

"  The  Methodist  Church  ought  to  do  this  work.  I 
was  raised  in  a  log  Methodist  church.  My  father 
built  it  on  our  farm.  Jacob  Young  preached  in  it  once. 


230     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

There  was  one  hymn-book  and  one  Bible  in  the  house. 
Our  benches  were  of  the  thickness  of  rails.  Some- 
times the  rails  would  warp  and  one  leg  stick  up  in  the 
air,  but  they  were  benches,  '  mourners'  benches.'  I 
have  seen  wonders  of  God's  saving  grace.  I  have 
seen  men  fall  and  lie  as  posts  for  hours,  and  not  one 
but  came  to  and  was  a  faithful  Christian  to  his  death. 

"  New  York  City  ought  to  have  a  rescue  mission. 
The  Presbyterians  have  Rescue  Missions ;  the  Baptists 
have  Rescue  Missions ;  the  Episcopalians  have,  but  we 
haven't.  In  the  lower  part  of  our  city  the  percentage 
of  Christians  is  hardly  worthy  of  our  mention.  It  is 
greater  in  Calcutta  and  Bombay,  in  portions  of  China, 
than  in  New  York  City  below  Fourteenth  Street.  We 
can't  get  rid  of  it  until  the  judgment  day,  and  we  say 
we  are  not  able.  We  could  do  much  more  than  we 
do.  We  start  a  church  in  the  suburbs  and  the  mem- 
bers pack  their  traps  and  leave  the  lower  part  of  the 
city  to  the  devil." 

Wesley  Hall,  now  known  as  Hadley  Hall,  was 
opened  for  work  and  worship  on  Saturday  evening, 
March  12,  1904. 

Fully  450  people  found  their  way  to  this  unaccus- 
tomed place  on  Saturday  night.  Over  the  door  in 
large  letters  of  light  they  saw  "  Wesley  Rescue  Hall." 
Passing  through  the  long  hallway,  brilliantly  lighted 
with  electricity,  they  came  to  the  ample  assembly 
room — a  great,  rough  loft  transformed  by  tool  and 
brush  and  light  into  one  of  the  brightest  and  most 
attractive  mission  halls  in  our  city. 

The  services  were  simple,  informal,  reverent.  While 
the  people  gathered  some  hymns  were  heartily  sung. 
The  corresponding  secretary  of  the  society  called  upon 


HIS    MONUMENT  231 

Dr.  E.  S.  Osborn,  Mr.  J.  F.  Cryer,  and  Dr.  G.  E. 
Strobridge  to  offer  prayer.  He  then,  after  a  short 
statement,  introduced  Dr.  J.  W.  Johnston,  of  John 
Street  Church,  and  Dr.  C.  S.  Wing,  presiding  elder  of 
the  district  in  which  the  mission  is  located,  to  speak 
for  the  Committee.  Then  Dr.  Louis  Klopsch,  also  a 
member  of  the  board  and  president  of  the  Bowery 
Mission,  most  felicitously  welcomed  the  new  work. 
Bishop  Andrews  followed  with  earnest  and  appro- 
priate words,  and,  inviting  the  people  to  stand  and 
join  in  a  prayer  of  consecration,  solemnly  dedicated 
this  new  hall  to  the  unique  and  blessed  work  for  which 
it  has  been  prepared. 

But  the  most  enduring  monument  left  by  Mr.  Had- 
ley  will  be  the  lives  of  those  whom  he  had  the  privi- 
lege of  leading  to  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  impossible  to 
mention  all  the  names  which  should  be  recorded  in 
this  book  in  connection  with  such  a  chapter.  There 
is  Benjamin  Watson,  who  was  a  drunken  tramp  and 
converted  over  seventeen  years  ago ;  Joseph  G.  Hester, 
an  Englishman,  who  was  found  by  Mr.  Hadley  as  he 
was  almost  freezing  to  death  and  taken  into  the  Mis- 
sion and  saved.  There  is  C.  C.  Fowler,,  who  occupied 
a  position  of  trust  in  one  of  the  great  New  York 
houses  and  was  slain  by  the  power  of  strong  drink, 
only  to  be  rescued  by  the  grace  of  God ;  Harry  E. 
Prentice,  also  an  Englishman,  brought  to  the  Mission 
by  a  companion  and  started  the  first  night  for  Christ, 
and  for  five  years  Mr.  Hadley's  assistant;  Arthur  H. 
Rice,  who  for  fifteen  years  has  been  kept  by  the  power 
of  God,  after  he  had  travelled  around  the  world  for 
assistance  and  failed  to  find  it ;  Peter  E.  Yotmgblood, 
whose  parents  were  foreign  missionaries,  stationed  at 


S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

Borneo,  sent  to  this  country  to  be  educated,  graduated 
at  Rutgers,  but  slain  by  his  appetite,  and  afterwards 
rescued  by  the  power  of  God;  Frank  F.  Fitzgerald, 
one  of  the  sweetest  singers  in  the  country,  who  was  an 
opera  singer  and  member  of  a  famous  quartet,  but 
finally  was  reduced  by  sin  to  singing  in  the  gin  mills 
of  New  York, — he,  too,  was  saved.  He  with  others 
sang  at  Mr.  Hadley's  funeral,  and  while  in  Canton, 
Ohio,  about  one  year  ago  was  asked  to  sing  for  the 
wife  of  the  martyred  President,  McKinley.  W.  L. 
Anderson,  who  says  that  words  cannot  describe  his 
past  sinful  life,  was  converted  in  1898,  and  writes: 
"  Now  I  have  a  home  of  my  own,  a  dear  wife  and 
baby,  for  all  of  which  I  thank  God."  E.  C.  Mercer, 
also  saved  by  the  grace  of  God,  and  now  associated 
with  Mr.  Wyburn  in  the  Water  Street  Mission.  All 
these  and  hundreds  of  others  should  be  mentioned  at 
length,  but  material  concerning  them  has  not  been  sent 
me,  and  so  I  can  only  say,  that  in  almost  every  city 
in  the  land,  and  possibly  in  almost  every  city  in  the 
world,  there  is  to  be  seen  to-day  some  fruit  of  the 
work  of  this  distinguished  servant  of  Jesus  Christ. 

HIS   FIRST  CONVERT 

Mr.  Hadley's  first  convert  was  James  C.  Edwards. 
The  following  is  his  testimony : 

"1621  6/th  St.,  BROOKLYN. 
"  Rev  J.  WILBUR  CHAPMAN, 
"  Winona  Lake,  Ind. 
"  MY  DEAR  SIR  AND  BROTHER: 

"  Some  few  weeks  ago  you  sent  me  a  letter  in  re- 
gard to  our  late  brother,  S.  H.  Hadley.    I  may  state 


HIS    MONUMENT 

that  the  first  time  I  saw  him  was  about  twenty-two 
years  ago,  but  I  never  became  acquainted  with  him 
until  the  night  of  the  3Oth  of  May,  1886,  and  since 
that  time  I  have  been  very  close  to  him  until  the  day 
he  went  home  to  glory. 

"  You  ask  me  to  say  something  about  him.  Well, 
all  I  can  say  is  that  I  as  well  as  thousands  of  others 
have  missed  not  only  a  friend,  but  a  brother,  for  if 
there  ever  was  a  Christian  man  it  was  S.  H.  Hadley. 
He  was  a  man  the  image  of  our  Saviour.  When  I 
had  troubles  or  trials  I  would  go  to  him  at  316  Water 
Street  and  talk  and  tell  him  about  it.  We  would  pray, 
and  the  warm  shake  of  his  hand,  and  '  God  bless  you, 
Jim/  I  will  never  forget.  Of  course  you  know  how 
much  I  loved  him. 

"  I  would  have  answered  your  letter  sooner,  but  I 
waited  until  I  celebrated  the  twentieth  anniversary  of 
a  Christian  life.  Now,  Brother  Chapman,  in  regard 
to  my  conversion,  you  can  get  it  in  the  book  of  S. 
H.  Hadley,  '  Down  in  Water  Street.' 

"  With  prayers,  I  remain, 

"  Yours  in  His  Name, 

"  JAMES  C.  EDWARDS. 
"  '  Scottie  the  Bum/  1886. 
"  J.  C.  EDWARDS,  1906." 

TOM  FARMER'S  TESTIMONY 

"  Two  years  ago  to-night  I  wandered  into  this 
Mission,  and  knelt  down  at  this  front  bench  and  cried 
to  God  to  be  merciful  to  me,  a  poor  sinner,  and  I 
know  my  prayer  was  heard  and  answered,  and  that 
God  sealed  me  for  His  own  that  night. 


S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

"  I  was  born  and  raised  in  this  city.  My  father 
owned  and  ran  a  saloon  on  Washington  Street  for 
thirty-five  years.  I  began  to  steal  before  I  was  ten 
years  old.  I  may  not  tell  this  story  in  detail  again, 
but  I  want  to  tell  it  to-night,  so  that  you  may  see 
what  God  has  brought  me  out  of.  It  is  not  a  pleasant 
story  for  me  to  relate,  but  I  want  to  do  it  in  order 
to  show  you  how,  if  a  man  will  trust  Jesus,  He  will 
bring  him  out  of  darkness  into  light. 

"  I  started  first  to  tap  tills  in  this  city.  From  that  I 
used  to  snatch  pocketbooks  from  people  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  Desbrosses  Street  Ferry.  My  own  people  knew 
what  I  was,  and  it  cost  them  hundreds  of  dollars  to 
keep  me  out  of  trouble.  When  my  father  died  he  left 
me  several  thousand  dollars.  After  getting  the  money 
I  started  for  the  West.  I  went  from  here  to  Phila- 
delphia. In  the  State  of  Pennsylvania  I  started  out 
on  a  criminal  career  that  cost  me  many  years  in 
prison.  I  robbed  a  post  office  in  that  State,  was  ar- 
rested, but  was  acquitted,  but  it  cost  me  $800  to 
get  out  of  that  scrape.  I  then  went  to  California,  and 
was  not  there  long  before  I  was  arrested  on  a  charge 
of  highway  robbery,  and  was  convicted  and  sentenced 
to  San  Quentin  Prison.  After  serving  my  sentence 
there,  I  had  to  leave  the  State  at  once,  as  there  were 
enough  charges  against  me  to  send  me  up  for 
life.  I  then  went  to  the  State  of  Oregon,  and  con- 
tinued in  the  highway  business,  but  had  to  get  out 
of  that  State  pretty  quick.  Next  I  drifted  into  Mon- 
tana. I  was  arrested  in  that  State  for  burglary,  and 
got  five  years  in  Deer  Lodge  Penitentiary.  Upon  my 
release  from  that  prison  I  went  to  the  State  of  Wash- 
ington and  in  the  city  of  Tacoma  was  arrested  on 


HIS    MONUMENT  235 

several  charges  of  burglary  and  highway  robbery,  but 
escaped  from  jail  and  turned  all  hands  loose  with  me. 
I  then  went  back  to  Seattle  and  was  arrested  again  on 
two  charges  of  highway  robbery,  but  managed  to  get 
away.  I  went  back  to  try  and  get  my  partners  away 
from  the  officers,  but  was  caught.  While  in  jail  await- 
ing trial,  we  nearly  managed  to  escape  again  by  tun- 
nelling our  way  out,  and  would  have  succeeded  but 
for  a  United  States  prisoner,  who  squealed  on  us, 
and  I  was  sent  to  Walla  Walla  Prison  for  seven 
years. 

"  While  in  Walla  Walla  I  plotted  to  escape.  I  gave 
a  man  money  to  bring  me  in  a  couple  of  guns.  While 
in  this  prison  they  made  us  work  in  a  brick  yard,  and 
while  we  had  it  all  arranged  to  grab  the  warden  and 
throw  him  on  the  engine  that  came  in  the  yard,  and  in 
that  way  escape,  as  one  of  my  pals  said  he  knew  how 
to  run  the  engine ;  when  we  got  on  the  engine,  however, 
instead  of  running  out  of  the  yard,  he  ran  the  engine 
further  into  the  prison  yard,  and  both  my  pals  were 
shot  dead  by  my  side.  They  caught  me  and  gave  me 
eighteen  months  in  solitary  confinement,  and  for  the 
first  twenty  days  they  hardly  gave  me  any  water  to 
drink,  or  any  bread  to  eat.  After  being  released  from 
this  prison  I  was  nearly  dead,  and  they  took  me  down 
to  the  train,  and  sent  me  out  of  the  State  into  Oregon, 
but  I  came  back  to  the  State  of  Washington  in  a  few 
weeks.  It  was  while  in  this  State  that  my  partners 
and  myself  planned  to  hold  up  a  train.  I  stationed 
my  partners  at  the  entrance  to  the  cars,  while  I  went 
through  and  took  all  the  money  and  valuables ;  while 
I  was  in  the  car,  however,  my  partners  got  cold  feet, 
and  deserted  me,  and  matters  got  so  hot  for  me 


236     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

that  I  had  to  drop  the  bag  and  run.  Bullets  were  fly- 
ing all  around  me,  but  I  managed  to  escape  without 
injury. 

"  A  short  while  afterward  my  partners  blew  open 
a  safe  in  a  little  town  just  outside  of  Spokane  Falls, 
and  two  weeks  later  myself  and  my  pals  were  arrested, 
and  the  goods  found  on  me;  my  pals  turned  State's 
evidence  and  got  two  years  in  prison.  I  stood  trial 
and  beat  the  case  and  was  acquitted. 

"  I  next  went  to  Butte  City,  Montana,  and  after  com- 
mitting innumerable  crimes  in  that  State,  I  went  back 
again  to  the  State  of  Washington,  and  was  arrested 
about  eight  miles  from  Spokane  Falls  for  burglary. 
I  was  tried,  convicted  and  sentenced  once  more  to 
two  years'  imprisonment. 

"  After  the  expiration  of  this  sentence  I  came  back 
to  New  York  City,  and  for  many  years  continued 
robbing  and  stealing  over  on  the  West  Side.  I  went 
into  the  office  of  a  business  man;  nobody  was  there 
except  himself,  and  I  robbed  him  of  all  the  money  he 
had — something  like  two  thousand  dollars.  Often, 
since  I  gave  my  heart  to  God,  I  have  seen  that  man's 
face,  and  I  can  see  the  awful  look  on  it  as  I  took 
the  money. 

"  Shortly  after  this  I  met  an  old  thief  who  knew 
me  and  knew  of  my  career,  and  I  told  him  I  was  sick 
and  tired  of  the  old  life  of  crime,  and  he  told  me  about 
the  McAuley  Mission,  and  advised  me  to  come  down 
and  see  Mr.  Hadley.  I  didn't  come  until  about  five 
days  after  he  told  me,  but  at  last  I  wandered  in  one 
evening  and  asked  for  Mr.  Hadley.  The  janitor  went 
up  and  told  Mr.  Hadley  that  there  was  a  man  down- 
stairs that  wanted  to  speak  to  him;  it  was  just  before 


x 
S 

C! 


HIS    MONUMENT  237 

the  evening  meeting,  and  soon  Mr.  Hadley  came  down 
and  spoke  to  me.  He  asked  me  how  I  felt,  and  I 
told  him,  and  he  spoke  encouragingly  to  me,  and  asked 
me  if  I  intended  to  take  Jesus  as  my  Saviour  that 
night,  and  I  said  that  I  would  if  I  died  in  the  streets 
that  night.  Jesus  came  into  my  life  that  night,  and 
the  past  two  years  have  been  full  of  happiness  and 
sunshine,  and  I  intend  to  continue  in  God's  work  to 
the  end. 

"  I  feel  grateful  for  all  the  love  and  mercy  that 
have  been  shown  me.  Brother  Hadley  took  me  here 
as  janitor ;  I  had  no  idea  that  he  was  going  to  offer  me 
this  position  until  I  received  a  letter  from  him  asking 
me  if  I  would  accept  it. 

"  I  was  down  South  at  the  time  with  Mrs.  Hadley, 
and  she  told  me  to  take  it.  After  that  I  was  made  a 
leader  here  on  Wednesday  nights.  I  asked  Brother 
Hadley  one  day  how  I  was  doing  on  the  nights,  and  he 
said :  '  You're  all  right,  Tom.'  I  have  had  no  educa- 
tion but  my  trust,  and  day  by  day  He  leads  me 
along. 

"  If  there  is  a  sinner  in  the  house  who  has  ever 
been  tempted  along  lines  similar  to  what  I  have 
been,  I  pray  to  God  that  He  will  make  a  change  to- 
night. I  want  to  thank  all  the  friends  of  this  Mission, 
and  all  the  converts  who  have  helped  me  along.  I 
do  not  bear  animosity  against  a  single  person  in  the 
world ;  I  pray  every  night  for  all  the  converts  of  this 
Mission,  and  I  want  you  to  pray  for  me,  and  I  want 
to  promise  you  that  I  will  be  kinder  and  do  everything 
that  lies  in  my  power  in  the  future  to  help  the  con- 
verts in  any  way  I  can. 

"  I  want  to  thank  you  sincerely  for  your  kind  pres- 


238     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

ent  to  me.  I  also  hope  you  will  continue  to  help  me 
out  on  Wednesdays.  If  I  have  ever  spoken  a  harsh 
word  to  anyone,  it  is  not  because  of  any  ill  feeling  I 
have  towards  him,  for  I  do  not  bear  a  grudge  against 
a  single  person,  either  in  this  Mission  or  any  place 
on  the  earth.  I  want  to  lead  a  good  Christian  life  and 
do  all  that  I  can  to  win  souls  for  the  Master. 

"  I  never  knew  what  a  Christian  life  meant  until 
two  years  ago.  I  had  spent  all  my  life  in  crime, 
scheming  how  to  rob  people  out  of  their  money,  but 
I  want  to  say  now,  that  so  long  as  I  have  breath,  I 
will  cling  to  Jesus." 

CHARLES    S.    YATES 

"  I  was  brought  up  in  a  good  Christian  home,  but 
unknown  to  my  parents  I  learned  to  drink  when  a 
mere  boy.  The  habit  grew  and  in  early  manhood  I 
was  a  slave  to  the  accursed  appetite.  For  years  I  tried 
to  conquer  it,  but  could  not.  At  last,  having  walked 
the  streets  night  after  night  from  Monday  until  Sat- 
urday, homeless,  friendless,  despairing,  I  stood  on  the 
corner  of  Chatham  Square,  New  York. 

"  Having  heard  that  McAuley  Water  Street  Mis- 
sion gave  lodging  tickets  to  homeless  men,  I  sought 
out  the  place  for  that  object  alone.  Thank  God  for 
the  reputation  of  this  Mission;  for  here  I  heard  the 
Gospel  of  Christ  proclaimed  as  I  had  never  heard  it 
before.  That  night  God  answered  my  prayer  for  par- 
don and  I  was  born  again.  From  that  hour  no  good 
thing  has  lie  withheld.  No  longer  homeless,  I  have 
a  home  where  Jesus  reigns  supreme,  a  good  Christian 
wife,  a  dear  little  boy,  and  for  nearly  three  years  I 
have  had  the  privilege  of  spreading  the  Gospel  among 


HIS    MONUMENT  239 

seafaring  men.    Thank  God  the  only  power  that  can 
save  the  drunkard  is  free  to  all." 

LOUIS    W.    BROWN 

"  In  the  winter  of  1887  I  was  in  Philadelphia  trying 
to  recover  from  a  drunken  debauch,  and  wandered  into 
a  church  where  B.  Fay  Mills  was  holding  a  series  of 
evangelistic  meetings.  I  was  attracted  by  the  singing. 
I  took  a  seat  in  the  rear  of  the  church  and  listened 
to  Mr.  Mills,  but  was  not  particularly  interested  until 
a  lame  gentleman  arose  and  sang  a  song,  entitled, 
'  Waiting  at  the  Pool.'  After  the  song  he  gave  a 
testimony  which  strangely  affected  me,  on  account  of 
its  similarity  to  my  own  experience ;  it  was  a  testi- 
mony which  I  have  heard  thousands  of  times  since, 
and  was  delivered  by  S.  H.  Hadley.  It  was  the  first 
time  I  had  ever  heard  anybody  admit  publicly  that  he 
had  been  a  drunkard  and  a  crook,  and  as  I  listened  to 
his  description  of  how  Jesus  came  to  him  in  a  saloon, 
detailing  in  his  inimitable  way  his  awful  conviction 
of  sin,  his  experience  in  the  station  house  to  which 
he  went  to  have  himself  locked  up,  and  his  subsequent 
conversion  in  the  Jerry  McAuley  Cremorne  Mission, 
I  became  deeply  convicted  of  my  own  sins,  and  at  the 
close  of  the  meeting  when  Mr.  Mills  invited  those 
who  were  interested  in  their  soul's  welfare  to  remain 
to  an  '  after-meeting,'  I  remained,  and  when  the  op- 
portunity was  given  I  arose  to  my  feet  and  stated  how 
I  had  been  affected  by  the  lame  gentleman's  testi- 
mony. When  I  had  finished  Mr.  Hadley  arose  and 
made  his  way  to  where  I  was  sitting;  he  put  his  arm 
around  me  and  asked  me  to  wait  for  him  after  the 
service,  which  I  did,  and  he  took  me  to  his  hotel.  The 


240     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

next  morning  he  gave  me  some  money  and  invited 
me  to  attend  the  Mills  meetings  for  a  few  days,  and 
then  come  to  his  Mission  at  316  Water  Street,  New 
York  City,  where  I  was  converted  about  two  weeks 
after  my  first  meeting  with  Mr.  Hadley.  I  had  been 
an  opera  singer  for  several  years  previous  to  my  con- 
version, having  sung  leading  baritone  parts  with  dif- 
ferent companies  in  every  large  city  in  the  United 
States.  I  began  to  drink  in  moderation  and  drank  and 
attended  to  business  for  years,  but  alcohol  gradually 
got  the  better  of  me ;  I  became  unreliable  and  at  last 
my  system  became  so  impregnated  with  alcohol  that 
I  was  not  normal  except  under  its  influence.  My  wife 
died  of  a  broken  heart,  and  I  sank  lower  and  lower; 
became  estranged  from  my  family,  and  everything 
else  that  was  worth  having  in  this  world.  I  signed 
pledges,  made  resolutions,  but  it  was  all  to  no  avail 
until  I  met  Mr.  Hadley.  Since  then  at  different  times 
I  have  returned  to  my  old  profession,  against  Mr. 
Hadley 's  advice,  and  invariably  have  fallen ;  he  had 
repeatedly  told  me  that  I  would  never  find  a  place  to 
rest  my  feet  in  the  Christian  life  until  I  gave  up  my 
old  profession,  and  made  an  unconditional  surrender 
to  God  of  my  life  and  service.  He  always  received 
me  back  with  open  arms,  and  always  believed  in  me, 
and  said  that  the  Lord  had  laid  me  upon  his  heart, 
and  that  he  would  never  give  me  up.  I  thank  God 
that  he  lived  to  see  me  rooted  and  grounded  in  Jesus. 
I  have  been  very  intimately  connected  with  Mr.  Had- 
ley off  and  on  ever  since  I  first  met  him ;  have  sung 
for  him  on  his  evangelistic  trips,  and  have  lived  with 
him  in  his  own  home.  He  was  the  kindest  man  I 
ever  knew ;  he  was  possessed  of  that  love  that  we  read 


HIS    MONUMENT 

of  in  the  First  Corinthians,  thirteenth  chapter,  '  the 
love  that  thinketh  no  evil,  but  hopeth  all  things,  be- 
lieveth  all  things,  endureth  all  things.'  " 

MATTHEW  J.  GALLAGHER 

"  BROOKLYN,  N.  Y.,  May  9,  1906. 
"DEAR  BROTHER: 

"  As  per  your  request  I  send  you  a  brief  sketch  of 
my  life.  It  is  just  one  year,  six  months,  fourteen  days 
since  I  entered  the  '  old  McAuley  Mission,'  316  Water 
Street.  I  started  a  Christian  life  before,  but,  relying 
too  much  on  my  own  strength,  and  feeling  that  I  could 
again  resume  the  company  of  my  old  companions 
and  keep  from  drink  I  did  so,  forgetting  the  Mis- 
sion, and  at  the  same  time  gradually  turning  my  back 
upon  the  truest  friend  of  all  sinners,  Jesus  Christ. 
It  was  not  long  before  I  again  found  myself  down 
deeper  in  the  mire  of  sin  than  I  had  ever  been  before. 
I  began  to  feel  that  all  hope  for  me  was  gone.  I  de- 
termined to  give  up  my  old  companions,  and  I  did  so. 
I  went  to  the  Salvation  Army  Hotel  on  Chatham 
Square,  feeling  that  I  might  possibly  regain  my  self- 
respect  away  from  those  who  were  near  and  dear  to 
me,  as  well  as  my  old  companions.  While  sitting  in 
the  reading-room  I  got  restless ;  nothing  seemed  to 
satisfy  me,  the  spirit  of  Jesus  working  on  one  hand 
and  the  devil  on  the  other;  it  would  be  useless  for  me 
to  try  to  describe  the  mental  anguish  I  suffered  on 
that  occasion.  I  finally  decided  to  visit  the  Water 
Street  Mission.  I  took  a  seat  near  the  back,  thinking 
that  no  one  would  know  me.  I  did  not  have  the 
least  intention  of  going  forward  to  the  mercy  seat, 


242     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

as  I  felt  that  all  hope  for  me  was  gone, — I  could  see 
nothing  before  me  but  a  drunkard's  grave.  When 
the  invitation  was  given,  Brother  Wyburn  came  di- 
rectly to  where  I  was  sitting  and  asked  me  to  go  for- 
ward, but  I  refused.  I  felt,  as  I  said  before,  that  I 
was  beyond  redemption,  but  after  some  persuasion 
I  consented  to  go  forward.  I  must  confess  it  was 
to  please  Brother  Wyburn,  and  what  a  blessing  it 
has  been  to  me  since.  I  surrendered  all  to  Jesus  that 
afternoon,  October  23,  1904.  I  always  remember  the 
prayer  I  offered,  which  was :  '  My  dear  Jesus,  I 
leave  myself  in  Thy  hands,  Thy  will  be  done,  not 
mine.'  What  a  wonderful  transformation  it  has  been. 
The  Lord  has  blessed  me  abundantly  in  the  short  space 
of  time  I  have  been  converted ;  I  have  not  found  the 
Christian  life  a  bed  of  roses,  the  thorns  are  there 
also.  Two  days  after  my  conversion  I  had  seven 
hemorrhages ;  I  applied  to  the  Bellevue  Hospital  for 
admission,  but  they  were  so  crowded  they  could  not 
take  me  in,  but  treated  me  at  the  dispensary,  giving 
me  medicine  to  take  three  times  a  day  before  meals. 
I  had  only  one  meal  a  day  with  the  exception  of 
Sundays  for  two  weeks,  all  this  time  taking  the  medi- 
cine. I  would  wait  for  the  whistles  to  blow,  then  put 
the  bottle  to  my  lips  and  take  what  I  thought  to  be 
a  teaspoonful  (I  did  not  have  a  spoon  to  take  it  with). 
The  Lord  was  good  to  me  on  that  occasion,  as  with 
the  odds  against  me  I  rapidly  regained  my  health, 
and  to-day  can  tip  the  scales  at  178  pounds.  I  thank 
God  for  the  many  friends  which  He  has  surrounded 
me  with.  I  thank  Him  that  it  was  my  great  privi- 
lege to  know  Brother  S.  H.  Hadley,  whom  I  learned 
to  love  dearly,  as  I  have  been  his  assistant  janitor, 


HIS    MONUMENT  245 

and  janitor  at  Wesley,  now  Hadley  Hall  on  the 
Bowery,  where  I  have  the  pleasure  nightly  of  seeing 
many  souls  won  for  Jesus.  I  had  known  the  joy  and 
happiness  of  religious  life  in  my  younger  days ;  at 
sixteen  I  became  a  member  of  the  St.  Vincent  de 
Paul  Society  of  the  Roman  Catholic  church,  and  for 
ten  years  it  was  my  pleasure  nightly  to  go  around 
among  the  poor  of  my  district  lending  a  helping  hand 
and  dropping  a  word  of  comfort  and  cheer  wherever 
I  could.  Words  cannot  describe  the  horror  I  felt 
when  I  realised  that  I  had  become  a  slave  to  drink; 
I  fought  it  for  over  seven  years,  but  it  seemed  that  the 
harder  I  fought  the  lower  I  descended  into  sin  and 
iniquity.  I  have  sometimes  walked  through  the 
streets  cursing  the  God  that  gave  me  life  in  one  breath 
and  calling  upon  Him  for  mercy  in  the  next.  I  was 
always  a  firm  believer  in  prayer,  and  I  felt  that  some 
day  the  Lord  would  answer  my  prayer.  I  thank  God 
that  He  did  hear  and  answer  my  prayer  one  year, 
six  months  and  fourteen  nights  ago.  I  have  never 
wanted  to  drink  since,  or  to  swear  or  to  do  a  great 
many  of  the  things  I  did  in  the  old  life. 

"  I  have  found  the  cure  for  drunkenness  in  the 
solid  rock  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  my  great  privilege  to 
lead  the  Friday  night  meeting  at  Hadley  Hall,  293 
Bowery,  also  to  have  the  honour  of  being  the  presi- 
dent of  the  Wesley  Brotherhood  of  the  old  John 
Street  M.  E.  Church,  as  well  as  being  vice-presi- 
dent of  the  Blue  Button  army  at  Water  Street  Mis- 
sion. The  way  looks  brighter  as  I  travel  steadily  on. 
I  thank  God  for  the  Mission  and  the  life  of  S.  H.  Had- 
ley, in  that  his  life  was  a  benediction  to  me,  for  he 
has  taught  me  to  love  my  fellow-man  and  lend  a  help- 


S.    H.    HADLEY    OF   WATER    STREET 

ing  hand  to  all  who  are  low  down  in  sin  and  wicked- 
ness. Though  the  Lord  has  wonderfully  blessed  me, 
I  find  that  I  need  Jesus  as  much  in  my  life  to-day  as 
I  did  the  first  day  I  started  out  to  serve  Him.  I  find 
the  Christian  life  is  a  fight  from  start  to  finish,  but 
thank  God,  the  harder  the  battle,  the  sweeter  the 
victory." 

OTTO  F.   YOUNGS 

•^ 
"  Rev.  J.  WILBUR  CHAPMAN,  D.  D., 

"  DEAR  FRIEND  : 

"  Our  mutual  friend,  Mr.  Wyburn,  tells  me  that  you 
wish  some  facts  relating  to  some  of  the  men  who 
were  led  from  lives  of  drunkenness  and  sin,  at  the 
McAuley  Mission,  316  Water  Street,  New  York,  dur- 
ing the  superintendency  of  the  late  Mr.  S.  H.  Hadley. 
I  am  one.  I  was  born  and  brought  up  here  in  New 
York  by  Christian  parents ;  had  a  good  home ;  good 
education;  fine  business  prospects;  married  a  fine 
girl  and  had  a  bright  family;  and  I  lost  home,  love 
of  children,  respect  of  friends,  business  opportunities, 
my  own  self-respect,  sense  of  honour,  and  all  that 
man  holds  dear  in  this  world  through  sin  and  drink. 
I  had  tried  m  every  earthly  way  to  shake  off  the  hold 
that  whiskey  had  upon  me, — the  so-called  gold  cures, 
etc.,  but  my  will  power  was  gone,  no  human  power 
seemed  to  help  me.  It  was  a  life  of  ups  and  downs 
until  three  years,  four  months  and  thirteen  days  ago, 
after  a  prolonged  debauch,  absolutely  homeless,  friend- 
less and  penniless,  right  in  this  great  city,  where  I 
was  once  in  an  enviable  position  in  every  way,  unable 
to  borrow  even  ten  cents,  for  I  had  tried  to  in  order 
to  get  a  drink  and  am  thankful  now  that  I  failed, 


HIS    MONUMENT  245 

for  had  I  got  it  it  might  have  given  me  a  little  tem- 
porary courage  and  I  never  would  have  gone  into 
that  Mission ;  but  in  the  condition  stated,  and  when 
no  one  in  the  world  seemed  to  have  the  least  particle 
of  confidence  in  me, — and  I  never  blamed  them, — 
I  dropped  into  that  God-blessed  place.  I  was  tired 
and  weak  for  want  of  food  and  sleep,  and  shaking 
from  debauch.  It  was  about  half-past  four  Sunday 
afternoon,  December  28,  1902.  Mr.  Hadley  was 
there ;  Mr.  Wyburn  was  giving  the  invitation  after 
Mr.  Fitzgerald  had  sung,  '  Under  His  wings  I  am 
safely  abiding.'  My  very  soul  was  touched;  all  the 
good  that  remained  in  my  poor  heart  welled  up,  and 
entirely  broken  in  spirit,  I  went  forward,  and  kneel- 
ing at  a  settee  along  with  three  or  four  other  sinners, 
I  prayed  the  prayer  of  the  publican.  When  I  arose 
Mr.  Hadley  greeted  me,  then  other  gentlemen,  and 
Mrs.  Hadley,  Mrs.  Lamont  and  others.  I  felt  a  sense 
of  sin  forgiven,  and  although  I  had  only  fifteen 
minutes  previously  been  hopeless  and  ready  to  plunge 
into  the  river  from  despair,  I  had  a  hope  and  a 
courage  such  as  had  not  been  mine  for  years.  God 
had  mercifully  restored  my  soul.  Mr.  Hadley  stood 
by  me  and  assisted  me  with  money  and  sympathy  and 
advice  and  by  his  many  Christlike  examples  until  I 
got  on  my  feet.  I  and  mine  thank  God  for  Mr. 
Hadley  and  the  McAuley  Mission. 

"  Yours   sincerely, 

"OTTO  F.  YOUNGS." 

Mr.  Hadley's  work  was  of  course  almost  entirely 
among  men,  but  his  great  heart  went  out  to  both 
lost  men  and  women.  As  has  been  said  elsewhere, 


246     S.    H.    HADLEY   OF   WATER    STREET 

he  searched  the  newspapers  daily  to  find  the  names 
of  those  awaiting  burial  and  had  no  friend  to  weep 
over  them.  The  following  appeared  in  the  New  York 
World: 

"  Instead  of  a  burial  among  the  unknown  dead  in 
Potter's  Field,  the  body  of  the  handsome  young 
woman  who  ended  her  life  by  poison  in  Central  Park 
ten  days  ago  was  taken  last  night  to  the  rooms  of 
the  Jerry  McAuley  Mission  in  Water  Street,  where 
a  simple  funeral  service  was  held.  The  body  will 
remain  in  the  undertaking  rooms  at  Nineteenth  Street 
and  Eighth  Avenue  until  to-morrow,  when  it  will  be 
buried  in  Maple  Grove  Cemetery." 

He  was  also  used  of  God  in  the  conversion  of  Cora 
L.  Dettinger,  and  at  Mr.  Hadley's  request  she  wrote 
the  following  as  the  account  of  her  conversion: 

"  It  is  known  to  many  that  under  God  the  Water 
Street  Mission  has  been  the  greatest  blessing  of  my 
life,  and  by  God's  great  goodness  I  am  enabled  to 
recount  some  of  the  wonderful  things  He  has  done 
for  me  while  I  have  been  going  there.  Oh,  the  guilt, 
and  sin  and  shame  I  brought  to  Him  there,  and  how 
many  a  burden,  how  many  a  care,  and  how  much  sor- 
row I  left  there  when  temptations  threatened  to  over- 
whelm me,  and  physical  pain  and  weariness  almost 
made  it  impossible  for  me  to  go  on,  and  when  doubts 
and  fears  oppressed  me  and  entered  my  soul,  and  the 
devil  worked  on  my  weakest  points,  and  held  out  an 
easier  and  pleasanter  path,  then  I  flew  to  my  old  ac- 
customed place,  second  bench  front,  to  tell  Jesus  all 
about  it,  and  He  would  make  the  devil  leave  me  and 
lift  the  burden,  and  angels  would  come  and  minister 
to  me,  and  Jesus  Himself  would  take  up  His  abode  in' 


MR.   AX1)    MRS.    OTTO   YOUXci 


HIS    MONUMENT 

my  heart,  and  gladden  and  comfort  me,  and  health 
and  strength  were  given  me  from  on  high  to  help  me 
fight  on.  But  the  struggle  is  over,  the  fighting  done. 
I  have  made  my  unchanging  choice  for  Christ.  Vic- 
tory has  been  mine  and  is  mine. 

"  It  is  known  to  those  who  know  me  that  Water 
Street  Mission  holds  a  warm  place  in  my  heart,  and 
all  feel  it  right  that  it  should  be  so.  It  could  not 
very  well  be  otherwise.  To  some  the  place  may  be 
dear,  to  others  perhaps  precious  and  blessed,  but  to 
me  it  was  even  more  than  that;  it  was  absolutely  in- 
dispensable to  me  to  persevere  in  the  face  of  such 
stupendous  obstacles  as  faced  me. 

"  When  I  had  at  length  struggled  to  my  feet  and 
secured  a  position  at  Child's  restaurant,  trouble  as- 
sailed me  on  every  hand.  Imagine  a  girl  who  has 
done  all  she  could  for  twenty  years  to  destroy  body 
and  soul  (and  I  well-nigh  succeeded),  working 
among  people  wholly  uncongenial  to  her,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  the  physical  and  mental  strain.  Again  and 
again  my  strength  would  be  taxed  to  the  utmost,  and 
I  would  be  compelled  to  leave  my  work,  but  I  was 
willing  to  do  the  most  menial  task,  and  bear  most 
anything  to  retain  my  hold  on  Jesus,  the  tender  Sav- 
iour, and  make  a  living. 

"  It  looked,  however,  as  though  the  great  sacrifice 
of  Jesus  had  been  in  vain  after  all.  A  very  trying 
ordeal,  for  which  I  was  wholly  unprepared,  nearly 
swept  me  off  my  feet.  I  had  an  alarm  clock  which 
belonged  to  a  girl  who  was  my  chum  in  the  old  life. 
She  took  it,  and  I  was  left  without  any  sort  of  clock 
or  watch.  All  my  jewelry  was  left  in  pawn,  and 
how  to  be  able  to  rise  without  an  alarm  clock  was  a 


248     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

problem.  I  was  so  fretful  and  worried  for  fear  of 
not  waking  up  that  I  could  neither  sleep  nor  rest.  I 
had  to  keep  a  sort  of  all-night  vigil  in  order  not  to 
be  late  to  my  work.  It  was  the  custom  then  for  all 
the  girls  to  change  their  shirt  waists  on  Thursday.  So 
all  unsuspecting  of  my  new  difficulty  I  went  to  the 
laundry,  when  much  to  my  dismay  the  man  informed 
me  that  there  had  been  a  fire,  and  in  fact  he  showed 
me  my  very  own  waist,  all  burned  to  rags.  I  told  the 
girl  who  was  over  me,  and  she  said,  '  To-morrow,  then, 
change/  but  where  was  I  to  get  the  waist? 

"  The  idea  came  to  me  to  wash  the  one  I  wore  my- 
self, and  I  had  to  put  it  on  half  damp.  I  felt  so 
uncomfortable  all  day  and  altogether  out  of  sorts 
from  lack  of  sleep  and  rest  that  when  I  got  home  I 
was  so  disheartened  I  lost  all  my  courage,  and  I 
thought  it  was  not  in  human  flesh  and  blood  to  en- 
dure more. 

"The  devil  nearly  triumphed,  for  I  brought  my 
clenched  hand  down  on  my  desk  and  with  an  oath  I 
swore  it  had  all  been  a  failure.  I  was  a  fool  for  ever 
thinking  I  could  remain  saved  and  kept,  and  so  I 
turned  my  back  on  the  crucified  Redeemer,  and  was 
about  to  rush  headlong  downtown  to  a  place  where 
I  spent  years  in  sin.  I  had  reached  the  steps  when 
a  woman  on  the  first  floor  shouted  lustily  after  me 
that  here  was  a  letter,  had  been  there  in  fact  all  day, 
only  she  did  not  hear  me  come  home  from  work. 

"  When  I  looked  at  that  letter  I  was  quite  positive 
I  had  never  seen  the  scratch  of  that  pen  before  in  my 
life.  I  never  had.  It  was  from  Mr.  S.  H.  Hadley. 
He  quoted  this  verse  to  me :  Isaiah  liv.  10.  '  The 
mountains  shall  depart  and  the  hills  be  removed ;  but 


HIS    MONUMENT  249 

my  kindness  shall  not  depart  from  thee,  neither  shall 
the  covenant  of  my  peace  be  removed,  saith  the  Lord 
that  hath  mercy  on  thee.'  But  I  found  something 
very  substantial  besides  the  verse  of  Scripture.  I 
felt  many  things.  Here  was  this  letter  actually  lay- 
ing there,  sent,  I  believe,  by  the  Lord  Himself  to 
cheer  and  help  me,  and  I  all  the  while  getting  more 
irritable,  and  allowing  myself  to  take  my  eyes  off 
God  even  for  one  minute.  I  felt  so  humiliated  I  went 
back  to  my  room.  It  took  me  a  long  time  to  climb 
the  stairs.  I  could  hardly  get  myself  to  face  God. 
I  was  conscious  of  having  wounded  and  grieved  the 
heart  of  the  Saviour,  when  He  in  all  thoughtful  care 
stood  near  me.  When  I  imagined  Him  to  be  far  off, 
He  was  really  nearest. 

"  I  picked  up  my  broken  lamp  which  I  had  knocked 
off  my  desk  and  after  spending  a  long  time  in  prayer 
I  went  to  bed  by  a  candle  light,  and  so  shall  I  be 
excused  in  regarding  this  Mission  with  the  tenderest 
affection  of  which  my  nature  is  capable.  When  I 
further  tell  you  of  its  incomparable  worth  to  a  life 
broken  and  blighted  by  sin,  held  in  chains  which 
Satan  himself  wound  around  me  for  years,  and  you 
could  see  no  way  out  of  it,  save  to  continue  the  degra- 
dation and  wickedness,  to  be  delivered  and  released 
from  such  an  existence,  such  a  bondage,  and  having 
the  old  hideous  sins  taken  out  of  your  heart  and  life, 
and  have  implanted  pure  and  noble  thoughts  and  in- 
spirations, to  which  you  had  been  a  stranger  for  years, 
that  would  have  been  enough.  I  should  have  been 
devoutly  thankful  for  so  much,  and  would  not  have 
been  so  greedy  as  to  expect  any  more,  but  after  re- 
deeming my  life  from  destruction  '  He  crowned  me 


250     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

with  loving  kindness '  in  giving  me  the  friendship 
and  love  of  the  entire  household  at  316,  and  He 
lavished  '  tender  mercies '  upon  me,  for  all  of  which 
I  am  unworthy.  In  making  me  a  welcome  guest 
at  the  Home  and  table  upstairs  I  thought  my  cup  was 
full,  but  it  was  filled  to  overflowing  one  evening  when 
we  all  knelt  around  the  dinner  table  and  Mrs.  Lamont 
singled  me  out  of  the  crowd  and  asked  me  to  pray. 

"  I  have  only  felt  once  or  twice  in  my  whole  life 
as  I  felt  then,  and  I  count  it  the  richest  experience  of 
my  Christian  life  to  associate  and  mingle  in  with  these 
godly  people.  What  I  have  seen  missing  in  my  own 
character  I  have  seen  depicted  plainly  enough  in  one 
of  them.  That  it  has  been  quite  easy  for  me  to  bring 
my  own  shortcomings  and  failings  to  God  and  ask 
Him  clearly  to  put  them  right,  I  thank  Him  from  my 
deepest  heart  for  all  He  has  made  the  Mission  and 
the  people  I  met  there  to  me,  but  I  thank  Him  even 
more  that  He  has  claimed  me  for  His  child,  that  I 
am  His,  and  that  I  want  to  be  more  like  Him  every 
day  I  live.  He  has  laid  the  lost  ones  on  my  heart,  and 
has  given  me  a  boundless  love  and  a  high  ambition  to 
help  those  who  are  so  utterly  lost  and  helpless,  and  it 
has  actually  come  to  where  I  can  say  that  I  have  been 
made  a  blessing  to  some  lives,  and  I  thank  Him,  oh, 
so  much,  for  all  that. 

"  I  have  often  wondered  and  I  have  often  been 
asked,  what  might,  or  what  could  be  the  hidden,  mys- 
terious, secret  power  back  of  the  great  soul-saving 
work  going  on  night  after  night  in  the  Water  Street 
Mission.  Suggestions  came  and  went  to  my  mind, 
but  I  could  not  arrive  at  any  satisfactory  conclusion 
until  very  recently  it  came  to  me  all  of  a  sudden, 


HIS    MONUMENT  251 

while  I  was  reading  the  story  of  the  blind  beggar, 
and  it  is  pity,  real,  true,  genuine  pity. 

"  It  is  an  exceedingly  rare  possession,  but  it  is 
the  great  power  in  Water  Street.  Love  never  faileth. 

"  It  was  manifested  in  such  marvellous  degrees  by 
Jesus  that  the  outcast  and  sick  and  sinning  called 
Him  the  Man  of  Compassion.  The  suffering  blind 
man  never  dreamed  of  such  pity.  The  sinner  never 
looked  for,  nor  imagined  such  depths  of  compassion. 
How  Jesus  loved,  because  He  first  had  pity,  and  pity 
makes  us  all  tender.  When  one  has  the  power  to 
pity,  you  find  power  to  help,  comfort  and  bless. 

"  When  all  those  sick  people  crowded  around  Jesus 
with  their  sores  and  diseases,  He  looked  on  them  with 
compassion.  He  never  turned  away  with  disgust,  al- 
though the  demand  on  Him  was  ceaseless,  but  he 
blessed  and  healed  all.  It  is  so  Christlike,  the  power 
of  pity,  and  there  is  such  power  in  it  still,  for  we  see 
it  in  Water  Street  practised,  and  given  freely  to  all 
who  come  and  ask,  and  even  those  who  don't  ask  get 
an  equal  share  and  amount  of  pity  and  love  and 
tenderness. 

"  I  ask  God  to  so  fill  me  with  pity  and  love,  so  as  to 
make  me  a  great  blessing  to  His  lost  ones,  and  thus 
bring  great  glory  to  His  matchless  name." 

HARVEY  GRAEME  FURBAY 

A  miracle  of  grace  indeed  is  Dr.  Furbay.  I  knew 
him  in  the  days  of  his  prosperity,  and  rejoice  in  his 
great  conversion.  Of  Mr.  Hadley's  influence  he  writes 
as  follows : 

"  To  speak  of  S.  H.  Hadley  as  my  heart  prompts 
or  a  sense  of  gratitude  suggests,  would  seem  fulsome. 


252     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

My  going  to  Water  Street  Mission  can  never  be  con- 
sidered other  than  a  providential  direction.  Wander- 
ing about  the  city  of  New  York  without  definite  pros- 
pect and  almost  hopeless  concerning  deliverance  from 
drink,  I  met  accidentally,  no,  providentially,  a  young 
man  with  whom  I  had  roomed  in  North  Dakota  when 
doing  some  work  for  the  Board  of  Publication  and 
Sunday  School  Work  during  my  junior  year  in  the 
seminary,  1889.  Seeing  my  condition,  he  said: 
'  Why  not  go  down  to  the  McAuley  Mission  and 
see  Hadley?'  Finally  I  did.  When  I  saw  Mr.  Had- 
ley  and  told  him  my  name,  he  knew  who  I  was.  He 
gave  me  a  substantial  meal,  and  a  little  money;  then 
asked  me  if  I  would  pray  and  I  told  him  that  I  did 
not  think  it  was  of  any  use.  He  said :  '  If  you  feel 
that  way  it  probably  isn't.'  He  wanted  me  to  come 
to  the  meetings.  I  went  once,  but  was  not  impressed, 
did  not  respond  to  the  invitation  extended.  Two  or 
three  weeks  later  I  went  back ;  no  questions  were 
asked,  no  lecture  was  given,  I  was  not  chided,  nor 
scolded,  nor  reproached. 

"  I  was  almost  hopeless.  I  had  been  treated  for 
alcoholism  in  seventeen  different  institutions.  I  had 
prayed.  I  had  isolated  myself  for  weeks  and  months 
at  a  time,  all  to  no  purpose.  I  listened  to  men  giving 
testimony  in  Water  Street,  and  gradually  hope,  new 
born  on  the  wings  of  faith,  arose  in  my  heart,  and  I 
began  to  pray.  I  cannot  explain  it ;  but  without 
clothing,  occupation,  friends,  or  home ;  separated  from 
and  anxious  about  my  two  motherless  girls,  grad- 
ually I  became  contented,  lost  my  anxiety  and  experi- 
enced that  peace  which  comforts  with  '  Let  not  your 
heart  be  troubled.'  I  dared  not  think  of  the  future. 


HIS    MONUMENT  253 

From  the  many  places  where  I  had  been  treated  for 
inebriety  I  had  come  sober,  but  with  no  assurance  as 
to  the  future.  When  asked  if  I  would  refrain  from 
drink,  my  reply  had  always  been  '  I  hope  so.' 

"  Within  less  than  ten  days  after  my  complete  sur- 
render and  sincere  willingness  to  do  whatever  Christ 
would  direct  me  to  do,  confidence  that  He  would 
never  leave  me  nor  forsake  me  took  possession  of 
my  heart.  One  trial  came  to  me  not  many  days  after 
giving  my  first  testimony  in  Water  Street.  Two 
clergymen  came  in  and  were  seated  near  me,  but  did 
not  see  me.  They  were  men  with  whom  I  had  spent 
three  years  in  a  theological  seminary — my  classmates. 
I  did  not  want  to  get  up  and  give  a  drunkard's  testi- 
mony before  them.  I  reasoned,  I  have  started  an 
honest  fight  for  my  life  and  soul  and  I  will  preserve 
my  sincerity.  Arising,  I  gave  my  testimony,  and  with 
it  came  unexpected  strength  to  my  character,  and  I 
have  never  wanted  a  drink  of  liquor  from  that  day 
to  this.  Mr.  Hadley's  knowledge  of  men,  their  hopes 
and  fears,  their  struggles  and  lapses,  their  environment, 
nature  and  habits,  gained  by  experience  as  drunkard 
and  gambler,  and  by  association  as  lodging-house 
keeper  on  the  Bowery  and  as  the  dean  of  rescue 
mission  workers,  was  so  sanctified  that  he  was 
'  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities.'  So,  his 
Christlike  patience. 

"  He  often  said  to  me :  '  Always  treat  a  man  so  that 
he  will  come  back  to  you  if  he  falls.'  This  accounts 
for  the  '  hold  he  had  on  men.'  A  man's  past  was 
of  no  concern  to  him.  A  declaration  of  Christ  was 
sufficient  credential.  Haclley  said :  '  That's  all  God 
requires.  If  He  is  satisfied,  I  ought  to  be.' 


S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

"  His  forgiveness  was  not  a  mere  formal  declara- 
tion, but  an  attitude  of  his  nature  which  the  outcast 
perceived,  and  at  once  began  to  feel  the  thrill  of  re- 
turning self-respect  so  essential  to  stability. 

"  One  day  in  August,  1905,  Mr.  Hadley  said  to 
me :  '  People  do  not  rightly  understand  the  Scripture 
which  says,  "  Whosoever  sins  ye  remit,  they  are  re- 
mitted unto  them ;  and  whosoever  sins  ye  retain  they 
are  retained."  That  power  is  not  limited  to  any 
person  or  set  of  persons.  It  belongs  to  me ;  it  belongs 
to  any  consecrated  believer  in  Jesus  Christ.  We  for- 
give men's  sins  every  day  in  Water  Street.  We  say 
to  the  poor  broken  man :  "  You  have  accepted  Christ, 
your  sins  are  forgiven.  You  are  not  a  drunkard,  nor 
a  thief,  nor  a  murderer,  but  our  brother.  We  be- 
lieve in  you."  ' 

"  This  spirit,  the  spirit  of  the  Master  manifested 
when  He  wrote  on  the  sand,  is  what  held  men  up  to 
their  highest  endeavours.  From  a  human  standpoint, 
it  is  what  gave  me  confidence  during  the  early  strug- 
gle. This  was  the  spirit  with  which  Mr.  Hadley  had 
imbued  the  Mission.  It  was  not  a  place  of  suspicion, 
but  confidence.  Men  are  not  watched,  but  embraced. 
Queries  about  possible  stability  were  not  entertained. 
There  was  no  exploiting  of  one  and  ignoring  an- 
other. The  coal  heaver  or  'longshoreman  was  in 
the  Kingdom  of  Christ  of  same  honour  as  the  col- 
lege-bred man  or  the  offspring  of  some  notable 
family.  The  communism  of  the  Gospel  prevailed, — 
hence  the  convert  had  that  best  of  environment  dur- 
ing his  early  struggles, — brotherly  love. 

"  Mr.  Hadley  never  even  remotely  suggested  the 
possibility  of  a  man  not  remaining  '  saved.'  Therein 


HIS    MONUMENT  255 

was  manifested  the  simplicity  and  sublimeness  of  his 
faith;  and  was  supplied  strength  for  the  weak  in  the 
hour  of  depression. 

"  By  me,  Samuel  Hopkins  Hadley  must  ever  be 
remembered  as  the  providential  agent  through  whom 
I  recovered  my  faith,  was  redeemed  from  destructive 
habits  and  vices,  and  restored  to  activities  for  which 
I  had  been  trained  and  seemed  to  be  endowed." 


XX 
HIS  MONUMENT  (CONTINUED) 

A   FEW  years  ago  the  visitors  to  the  Water 
Street  Mission  were  always  impressed  by  the 
presence  of  a  grey-haired  old  gentleman.  His 
testimony  was  thrilling.    One  night  what  he  said  was 
taken  down  and  his  testimony  was  sent  us. 

"  Boys,"  he  said,  "  if  you  think  it's  too  late  for  you 
to  be  saved,  just  look  at  me.  I'm  getting  to  be  eighty 
years  of  age,  yet  it  was  only  a  few  years  ago  that  I 
was  picked  up,  worse  off  than  any  of  you.  It  wasn't 
anything  but  drink  that  brought  me  down.  I  had  a 
good  family  and  a  good  wife,  but  the  liquor  had  a  grip 
on  me  that  nothing  could  shake.  When  I  found  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  boys,  the  whole  thing  passed  away 
like  a  dream.  What  was  impossible  before,  was  easy 
then,  boys.  It  don't  matter  what  you  think  about  it 
now,  boys;  it'll  be  just  as  easy  for  you,  once  the  love 
of  Jesus  takes  a  hold. 

"  I  began  drinking  when  a  boy,  my  friends — just  a 
little  beer  and  a  little  wine  now  and  then,  but  it  was 
the  reason  of  my  complete  downfall  later.  At  thirty 
I  was  a  drunkard.  I  had  to  sneak  away  to  keep  the 
fact  from  those  who  loved  me,  and  I  only  returned 
when  I  knew  that  I  could  keep  sober  for  a  week  or  so. 
Gradually  the  desire  got  stronger,  and  I  reached  the 
age  of  fifty,  a  sot.  I  was  as  hopeless  a  case  as  any  of 
you  ever  saw — worse  than  any  of  you  are  now.  Nine 

256 


HIS    MONUMENT  257 

times  after  I  was  fifty  I  went  to  the  Kings  County 
Inebriates'  Home.  There  every  human  means  to  save 
me  was  tried.  It  was  all  of  no  avail.  Even  the  hor- 
rors of  delirium  tremens  failed  to  keep  me  straight. 
Boys,  I  have  helped  to  hold  raving  crazy  men — crazy 
with  the  awful  torture  of  delirium  tremens;  have  had 
them  die  in  my  arms,  and  knowing  that  the  same  ter- 
rible end  awaited  me,  have  gone  out  and  filled  myself 
with  rum  simply  because  I  couldn't  fight  it! 

"  Boys,  it  was  after  I  had  come  out  of  the  home  for 
the  ninth  time  that  I  wandered,  shivering  and  cold, 
into  the  Madison  Square  Park.  I  had  been  drunk  for 
days  and  was  a  physical  and  mental  wreck.  I  sat  down 
on  a  bench  and  somebody  spoke  to  me.  I  looked  to 
see  who  it  was,  but  there  was  nobody  near.  Again  I 
heard  the  voice,  and  quaking  with  fear,  I  went  to 
another  bench.  The  voice  followed  and  then  I  knew 
it  was  my  old  friend,  the  delirium  tremens. 

"  Boys,  I  knew  in  an  hour  I  would  be  suffering  the 
tortures  of  hell.  I  had  just  a  few  minutes  to  make 
up  my  mind  what  to  do.  Should  I  go  to  the  home 
again?  It  had  never  done  me  more  than  temporary 
good.  Suddenly  I  remembered  having  seen  the  light 
of  this  Mission,  having  heard  the  singing  through  the 
closed  doors,  and  having  once  heard  a  man  who  was 
speaking  say  that  Jesus  Christ  could  save  anybody. 
'  I'll  go  there  for  a  last  chance/  I  said  to  myself, 
'  and,  boys,  I  came  here.  They  took  care  of  me,  and 
though  I  fell  more  than  once,  they  brought  me  to  be 
a  good  man.  It's  years  since  I  have  touched  a  drop, 
boys,  and  I'll  die  when  my  time  comes,  without  again 
touching  the  poison.  The  Lord  did  it  for  me,  boys, 
and  He'll  do  it  for  you." 


S.    H.    HADLEY   OF   WATER    STREET 

Now  he  is  unable  to  be  at  the  Mission,  but  when  he 
heard  that  the  story  of  Mr.  Hadley's  life  was  being 
written,  he  wrote  as  follows: 

"  No.  i  Elm  St.,  NEWBURGH,  N.  Y. 

"June  18,  1906. 
"  Rev.  SIR  AND  DEAR  CHRISTIAN  BROTHER  : 

"  Knowing  that  you  were  to  write  up  the  life  of 
our  precious  brother,  Hadley,  that  wonderful  mis- 
sionary to  the  lost,  I  thought  that  it  was  most  fitting 
that  his  great  helpfulness,  untiring  sympathy  and  ex- 
haustless  Christian  patience  in  securing  my  release 
should  be  recorded  along  with  those  of  others. 

"  My  first  acquaintance  with  Brother  Hadley  oc- 
curred some  time  in  1889,  then  in  my  sixty-ninth  year: 
it  happened  in  this  wise.  Being  on  the  West  Side  of  the 
city,  I  strolled  into  Brother  Stephen  Merritt's  Mission 
on  Franklin  Street,  bitterly  conscious  of  my  rum- 
ruined  condition,  which  every  known  means  (except 
the  Divine)  had  failed  to  relieve.  At  the  conclusion 
of  the  services,  Brother  Merritt  furnished  me  with 
means  and  a  note  to  Brother  Hadley,  at  that  time 
managing  a  lodging  house  on  the  Bowery,  which  I 
reached  about  ten  o'clock.  Brother  Hadley  had  just 
retired  for  the  night,  but  after  plying  the  clerk  with 
many  persuasive  importunities,  he  finally  consented  to 
deliver  the  note  which  brought  my  dear  brother  from 
his  bed  to  my  aid.  He  soon  joined  me  in  the  vestibule 
of  the  premises,  receiving  me  with  the  most  cheerful, 
assuring  and  loving  expression,  so  natural  to  him,  and 
took  me  to  a  near-by  restaurant,  where  I  got  the  best 
in  the  house,  with  instruction  to  return  to  him  when 
through  with  my  supper.  Doing  so,  I  found  that  he 


HIS    MONUMENT  259 

had  arranged  with  his  clerk  for  my  lodging  and  food 
for  a  time.  My  nature  had  become  so  perverted  by  the 
habit  of  my  life  that  anything  beyond  the  mere  grati- 
fication of  it  had  no  force  with  me,  and  whatever  else 
might  be  done  for  me,  the  desire  for  drink  was  ever 
uppermost. 

"  Having  come  to  know  Brother  Hadley,  I  was 
brought  in  touch  with  the  dear  old  Mission  in  Water 
Street,  coming  and  going,  not  yet  ready  to  part  with 
my  misery,  but  oh,  the  I3th  of  September,  1890,  in 
my  seventieth  year,  with  Brother  Hadley  and  dear 
Sister  Sherwood  kneeling  beside,  I  gave  my  heart  to 
God.  He  wrote  His  name  thereon,  sealed  me  to  Him- 
self. I  am  now  in  my  eighty-seventh  year  and  the 
psalm  of  my  life  is  '  Praise  God  from  Whom  all  bles- 
sings flow  '  and  the  Missions  where  lost  souls  may  go. 
"  With  sincere  Christian  love, 

"  UNCLE  REUB.  JOHNSON." 

JOHN  H.  WYBURN 

Mr.  Hadley's  assistant  for  many  years  in  his  mis- 
sion work  at  Water  Street  was  John  H.  Wyburn.  He 
was  brought  out  of  the  darkness  of  infidelity,  and  also 
out  of  the  power  of  strong  drink,  into  glorious  Chris- 
tian manhood.  His  devotion  to  Mr.  Hadley  could 
scarcely  be  put  into  words.  He  writes  as  follows : 

"On  September  25,  1888,  I  first  met  Rev.  S.  H. 
Hadley.  I  shall  never  forget  the  first  words  he  spoke 
to  me.  I  was  telling  him  what  I  wanted  to  do  (I  was 
in  an  awful  drunken,  miserable  condition,  too  drunk 
to  live),  to  get  sobered  up,  get  back  to  my  business, 
when  he  said  in  a  very  significant  tone  of  voice,  '  Is 
that  all  you  want?  '  I  was  astonished  at  his  answer, 


260     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

and  I  thought,  '  If  you  only  knew  how  impossible  it  is 
for  me  to  get  sober  and  keep  sober,'  but  in  a  moment 
he  said  with  the  love  and  light  of  heaven  in  his  face, 
'  What  you  need,  my  dear  boy,  is  Salvation,  Jesus 
Christ  in  your  heart;  He's  the  one  that  will  restore 
to  you  what  you  have  lost,  will  restore  unto  you  all 
things.'  He  invited  me  to  stay  and  I  did  so.  Never 
shall  I  forget  the  wonderful  testimonies  I  heard.  I 
thought  they  were  all  speaking  especially  for  my  bene- 
fit. I  stood  up  and  said  that  I  wanted  some  of  that ! 
It  was  a  cry  for  redemption.  I  knew  not  what  it  was 
at  the  time,  but  Jesus  knew,  bless  His  dear  Name,  and 
on  that  night  the  devils  were  cast  out.  The  old  hard 
heart  of  unbelief  was  made  new,  the  cursed  appetite 
for  whiskey  was  taken  out  of  my  life. 

"From  that  night  Mr.  Hadley  has  been  the  guid- 
ing star  of  my  life ;  it  was  he  who  led  me  to  Jesus, 
and  for  over  seventeen  years,  nearly  fifteen  of  which 
I  have  had  the  privilege  of  being  associated  with  him 
in  this  wonderful  work,  into  my  heart  and  life,  through 
his  influence,  have  come  the  love  and  pity  he  had  for 
lost  souls  who  come  into  the  Mission.  For  over 
five  years  I  have  practically  had  charge  of  the  work 
down  in  Water  Street,  so  far  as  the  spiritual  part  goes. 
Mr.  Hadley  was  away  the  best  part  of  the  year, — it 
was  a  treat  to  have  him  here.  Our  work  had  become 
so  great  that  he  was  compelled  to  be  absent  raising 
money  for  the  needs  of  the  Mission ;  but  his  heart 
was  always  here  and  I  believe  he  is  still  with  us  in 
spirit." 

JOHN  R.  M'CONICA 

S.  H.  Hadley  was  used  not  only  to  assist  in  lead- 
ing men  to  Christ  at  Water  Street,  but  he  was  enabled 


HIS    MONUMENT  261 

to  send  many  a  man  out  to  do  rescue  work  in  other 
cities ;   such  a  man  is  the  writer  of  the  following : 

"  My  conversion  antedates  Brother  Hadley's  super- 
intendency  of  the  Water  Street  Mission  about  one 
year,  having  been  converted  when  Mr.  John  F. 
Shorey  was  the  superintendent.  I  was  in  attendance 
at  the  first  meeting  Brother  Hadley  conducted  in  the 
Mission,  and  I  was  the  first  one  Brother  Hadley  re- 
quested to  pray  at  that  service.  On  that  occasion  I 
learned  to  love  him  very  dearly,  and  as  the  days  went 
by,  my  love  for  him  intensified,  until  I  looked  upon 
him  almost  as  a  brother  in  the  flesh,  as  he  surely  was 
in  the  spirit.  I  am  also  sure  of  the  fact  that  he  loved 
me.  With  Mrs.  Hadley  he  has  been  a  guest  at  my 
house  when  in  Montreal,  Fall  River,  Savannah  and  in 
Norfolk.  I  have  listened  to  him  as  he  made  me  the 
confidant  of  many  of  the  secrets  of  his  great  soul,  bar- 
ing his  heart,  and  surprising  me  by  the  glimpses  I  thus 
received  of  the  Christlikeness  of  his  beautiful  charac- 
ter. I  am  indebted  to  him  in  every  way,  for  material  aid 
in  times  of  stress  financially,  and  for  wise  counsels  and 
loving  admonitions  of  a  spiritual  nature  by  which  I 
have  been  '  built  up  in  my  faith '  and  received  clearer 
conceptions  of  the  God-love  manifested  through  the 
blessed  Jesus  to  me.  This  memory  will  ever  be  an 
inspiration  to  me  and  an  incentive  to  greater  efforts 
for  the  greater  uplifting  of  those  who  are  '  down  and 
out.'  How  we  (my  family  and  I)  miss  him.  We  can 
scarcely  realise,  as  yet,  that  he  has  gone  to  his  reward. 
Dear  Brother  Chapman,  may  all  of  us  so  live  that  '  at 
the  sounding  of  the  trumpet  when  the  saints  are  gath- 
ered home,  we  shall  greet  each  other  by  the  Crystal 
Sea/  "  Sincerely  your  Brother  in  Christ." 


2G2     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF  'WATER    STREET 

WILLIAM    F.    ELLIS 

"  Fifteen  years  ago  I  came  to  New  York  after  I 
had  deliberately  thrown  a  business  away.  On  Sun- 
day night,  in  a  drunken  frame  of  mind  in  an  Eastern 
city,  not  very  far  from  here,  I  took  the  key  of  my 
business,  a  saloon,  and  threw  it  over  the  transorp 
of  the  door,  and  took  a  midnight  train  for  Baltimore, 
where  I  had  relatives  living ;  but  I  made  it  so  unpleas- 
ant for  them  with  my  drinking  habits  that  they  soon 
got  tired  of  me,  and  gave  me  money  and  a  ticket  to 
go  back  to  the  city  I  had  come  from;  like  many  an- 
other fellow  I  got  no  further  than  the  Bowery  in  New 
York  City,  and  there  I  began  to  go  down  and  down, 
until  I  finally  reached  the  gutter.  Time  and  time 
again  I  had  to  be  sent  to  institutions  for  drunkenness, 
but  all  to  no  avail.  On  the  night  of  November  10, 
1903,  God  in  His  infinite  goodness  touched  my  guilty 
soul  in  the  dear  old  McAuley  Mission  and  set  me  free, 
and  thank  God  I  have  been  free  ever  since.  If  God 
had  only  saved  me  from  the  appetite  for  strong  drink, 
I  would  even  then  be  a  most  happy  man,  but  I  never 
knew  what  genuine  happiness  was  until  I  got  the 
grace  of  God  deeply  rooted  in  my  heart.  The  dear 
Master  has  given  me  love  for  others  that  are  down  in 
the  horrible  pit  and  miry  clay  like  I  once  was,  and  He 
has  also  restored  my  darling  little  daughter  to  me,  who 
was  lost  to  me  for  about  six  years.  There  is  only  one 
thing  in  my  life  that  I  wish  for  now,  and  that  is  to 
know  more  of  Him  who  died  for  me.  Praise  His 
Holy  Name." 


HIS    MONUMENT  263 

W.  H.   QUINN 

From  Hell  to  Heaven 

"  There  was  no  time  in  my  life  that  I  did  not  know 
the  taste  for  liquor.  One  of  the  first  things  that  I 
remember  is  drink  and  its  surroundings.  As  a  child 
I  just  loved  the  taste  of  it  and  was  ever  ready  and 
willing  to  go  for  a  can  of  beer  or  a  bottle  of  whiskey. 
I  well  remember  how  I  would  take  a  drink  in  the  hall 
and  then  look  for  more  in  the  house.  So  I  had  an 
early  start  on  the  road  that  would  surely  land  me  in 
hell.  Unlike  most  boys,  I  had  no  early  Christian  train- 
ing or  Sunday  School  teachings.  I  have  often  testi- 
fied that  I  came  into  this  world,  and  then  became  like 
the  people  I  grew  up  among, — a  drunkard  and  a 
crooked  man.  At  the  age  of  fourteen  I  had  already 
been  arrested  and  in  court  twice.  As  I  grew  older 
and  had  a  taste  of  prison  life,  the  longing  came  over 
me  many  times  to  lead  a  different  life.  How  well  I 
remember  on  Sunday  morning,  seeing  well-dressed, 
smiling,  happy  people  going  and  coming  from  church, 
and  I  wished  that  I  was  like  them.  At  that  time  I 
thought  it  was  because  they  had  friends,  and  home, 
and  money,  that  they  looked  so  happy.  Then  I  would 
go  and  do  something  wrong  to  get  money,  and  that 
would  mean  more  whiskey  and  more  misery.  When 
I  wanted  whiskey  I  would  stop  at  nothing  to  get  it. 
I  remember  one  Sunday  afternoon  while  walking 
along  the  streets  half  crazy  from  Saturday  night's  de- 
bauch, I  came  to  a  saloon,  in  the  window  of  which 
was  a  display  of  bottles  of  whiskey.  The  very  sight 
of  these  was  like  putting  a  match  to  dynamite,  and  I 
broke  in  that  large  plate  glass  window  and  taking 


264     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

several  quart  bottles  of  the  whiskey  ran  and  got  away 
with  them.  I  do  not  think  it  would  have  been  safe 
for  anyone  to  have  attempted  to  stop  me  that  Sunday. 
I  kept  going  from  bad  to  worse.  Of  course,  there 
were  times  when  locked  up,  that  I  had  no  whiskey, 
and  at  such  times  I  would  say,  '  When  I  get  out  of 
here,  I  will  disappear.  I  will  go  to  another  city  where 
no  one  knows  me  and  get  work,  stop  drinking  and  be 
an  honest,  respectable  man.'  But  it  was  of  no  use.  I 
could  not  change  my  way  of  living.  I  knew  no  other 
life,  yet  I  longed  to  be  good.  Then  I  enlisted  in  the 
United  States  regular  army,  thinking  that  the  disci- 
pline, etc.,  there  would  lead  me  at  least  to  live  a 
straight  life.  But  there  I  was  soon  regarded  as 
crooked,  and  I  did  not  like  that  name,  among  over 
eight  hundred  men.  Before  long  I  had  had  my  first 
court-martial,  and  several  others  followed  with  guard- 
house sentences.  Coming  back  from  the  funeral  of 
the  late  President  McKinley,  my  company  being  there 
on  duty,  I  got  on  a  frightful  drunk,  and  when  my 
money  was  all  gone,  I  borrowed  all  that  I  could,  sold 
all  my  clothes,  got  trusted  for  as  much  whiskey  as  I 
could,  and  then  I  was  not  through.  I  still  wanted 
drink  and  I  got  it,  and  the  police  got  me.  I  committed 
a  crime  at  night  that  enabled  me  to  satisfy  for  a  time 
my  craving  for  drink,  and  a  few  days  later  I  was  ar- 
rested, tried  and  again  was  behind  the  bars.  Then  my 
discharge  was  mailed  to  me  from  the  Army.  It  read: 
'  Discharged  without  honour  for  being  held  by  civil 
authorities.'  While  in  that  prison  one  day,  a  Christian 
lady  asked  me  where  I  was  going  when  released ; 
where  was  my  home?  I  told  her  I  was  going  to  get 
away  from  that  part  of  the  country.  I  did  not  know 


HIS    MONUMENT  265 

where  to  go,  I  had  no  home,  I  had  nothing,  I  was 
nothing.  In  time  I  reached  New  York  and  got  work 
several  times,  but  could  not  keep  it.  So  I  slept  in 
parks  and  on  docks,  living  off  '  free  lunch  '  bars.  But 
I  did  not  '  live/  I  merely  existed  until  September  25, 
1902.  That  day  in  a  half-dead  condition  in  a  saloon 
on  Park  Row,  New  York  City,  not  knowing  what  to 
do,  another  drunkard  asked  me  where  I  was  '  putting 
up.'  I  told  him  I  was  holding  down  that  pier  at  the 
foot  of  Twenty-fourth  Street.  He  said :  '  How  long 
are  you  in  New  York  ?  '  I  replied :  '  A  few  months.' 
When  he  learned  that  I  did  not  know  where  Water 
Street  Mission  was  and  that  I  did  not  know  Mr.  Had- 
ley,  he  told  me  that  I  was  '  slow  ' ;  then  he  began  to 
teach  me  a  new  way  of  getting  a  living  without  work. 
He  said :  '  This  Mr.  Hadley  used  to  be  a  drunkard,  and 
now  he  wants  to  help  the  man  that  is  down  and  out. 
So  you  get  as  drunk  as  you  can  and  go  down  to  the 
Mission,  and  if  you  are  only  foxy  you  can  work  that 
place  all  winter.  When  you  are  through  there,  I  will 
give  you  a  list  of  other  places.'  That  night  found  me 
in  the  Mission,  with  no  good  intentions  in  my  heart. 
The  man  who  was  with  me  asked  me  how  much  I  was 
going  to  touch  Mr.  Hadley  for,  and  what  story  I 
would  give  him.  I  replied :  '  I  can't  tell  until  I  size 
him  up.'  I  do  not  know  anything  about  the  first  part 
of  the  meeting,  only  when  a  man  had  finished  his  solo 
I  wanted  to  applaud  and  bring  him  out  again.  I  had 
never  been  in  a  mission  before.  But  when  men  stood 
up  and  testified  that  they  knew  all  about  the  life  that 
I  was  living  because  they  had  lived  it,  and  told  how 
Jesus  had  come  into  their  lives,  and  had  taken  away 
all  desire  for  whiskey  and  wrongdoing,  then  I  was 


266     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

awake.  One  man  said  that  only  two  weeks  ago  he  was 
a  drunkard  in  the  gutter  and  Jesus  had  saved  him. 
I  sprang  to  my  feet  and  said,  '  I  want  to  be  like  those 
fellows.'  I  was  told  to  sit  down  and  I  would  get  a 
chance  later  on ;  the  man  that  was  with  me  said  I  was 
getting  crazy;  when  the  invitation  was  given  to  those 
who  wanted  to  start  in  the  new  life — the  Christian 
life — I  was  one  of  the  first  to  come  forward,  and  as  I 
knelt  there  I  forgot  all  that  man  had  told  me  about 
'  working '  the  mission.  It  just  seemed  like  the  Holy 
Spirit  came  into  my  life  and  illuminated  my  darkened 
understanding,  and  made  it  very  plain  to  me  why  I 
was  a  homeless  drunkard  and  a  crooked  man.  It  was 
because  I  was  a  sinner.  So  I  knelt  at  Jesus'  feet  with 
a  sincere  desire  in  my  heart  to  get  away  from  a  sinful 
life.  I  was  asked  to  pray,  but  did  not  know  how. 
Then  I  was  told  to  say,  '  God  be  merciful  to  me,  a 
sinner,  for  Jesus'  sake.'  I  did  so,  and  because  I  was 
sorry  for  my  sins  and  meant  business  and  wanted  to 
know  this  Jesus  that  the  men  told  me  about,  God 
heard  and  answered  my  prayer.  Praise  His  Name. 
Now  I  want  to  be  like  Him,  for  He  has  taken  out  of 
my  life  all  desire  for  whiskey,  lying,  stealing,  and  in 
fact,  every  evil  that  was  in  my  old  life.  '  Old  things 
have  passed  away  and  all  things  have  become  new.' 
How  I  want  to  tell  out  the  glad  news  of  the  power  of 
God  to  save  and  keep  such  as  I  was.  There  is  sel- 
dom a  day  but  there  is  someone  to  whom  I  tell  of  the 
power  of  God  to  save  all  that  come  unto  Him.  One 
day  a  minister  told  me  about  a  man  whose  wife  was 
a  member  of  his  church.  He  was  often  drunk,  and 
the  dear  wife  with  a  breaking  heart  would  ask  this 
pastor  to  do  something  for  him.  But  he  did  not  know 


HIS    MONUMENT  267 

what  to  do.  He  said,  '  When  a  man  is  drunk  I  know 
it  is  no  use  talking  to  him,  and  when  he  is  sober,  I 
have  not  the  courage.'  Right  here  I  believe  God  used 
me.  For  I  told  this  good  man  that  God  could  save  a 
man  when  drunk  as  well  as  when  sober,  and  told  him 
of  several  men  who  came  to  the  Mission  and  knelt 
down  drunk,  and  got  up  sober  and,  praise  God,  have 
been  sober  ever  since.  He  said,  '  I  am  glad  I  met  you 
and  had  this  talk.  The  next  time  this  man  is  drunk 
I  am  going  to  get  him  on  his  knees/  Indeed,  he 
seemed  somewhat  anxious  that  he  would  get  drunk 
soon;  that  he  might  tell  him  that  Jesus  could  remove 
the  desire  for  whiskey  from  him  forever. 

"  Two  days  after  the  Lord  saved  me  He  gave  me 
a  good  job,  and  I  have  made  an  honest  living  for 
almost  four  years.  I  think  I  get  more  out  of  this 
salvation  than  most  people  I  hear  testify.  They  tell 
how  God  has  restored  to  them  the  things  that  Satan 
had  robbed  them  of;  how  they  fell  from  a  high  social 
position,  etc.  Well,  I  had  never  been  up  to  come 
down. 

"  But  now  God  has  blessed  me  with  things  I  never 
dreamed  of,  things  that  I  never  had.  Now  I  go  to 
church,  and  am  happy  like  those  I  once  envied.  All 
because  I  belong  to  Jesus.  Neither  tongue  nor  pen 
can  express  what  Mr.  Hadley's  life  and  teaching  and 
influence  have  been  to  me.  God  used  him  to  make  me 
comprehend  what  there  is  to  enjoy  in  the  Christian 
life.  I  thank  God  for  nearly  four  years  of  close  fel- 
lowship with  this  man  of  God.  I  am  enlisted  now  in 
the  Army  of  the  Lord,  and  when  my  enlistment  is  up 
and  the  bugle  calls  me  to  my  Saviour,  the  Commander- 
in-Chief,  I  want  an  honourable  discharge,  and  a  place 


268     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

with  Him  in  His  Kingdom.  What  God  has  done  for 
me,  He  can  do  for  anyone,  no  matter  how  low  down, 
if  they  will  only  come  to  Him  and  mean  business." 


THOMAS   C.    MILLERICK 

How  a  rebel  became  a  regular  by  the  instrumen- 
tality of  Samuel  Hopkins  Hadley. 

"  Born  in  New  York  City,  the  first  remembrance  I 
have  of  my  being  was  at  my  mother's  knee,  where  she 
taught  me  my  evening  prayer,  and  then  she  would 
lift  me  up  and  place  me  in  her  lap,  and  sing  the  old 
familiar  hymns, — one  I  distinctly  remember,  '  Oh, 
Happy  Day  that  Fixed  My  Choice,'  and  after  singing 
she  would  talk  to  me.  I  now  believe  she  was  praying 
about  me,  and  asking  God  to  take  care  of  her  boy. 
Thank  God  for  such  recollections,  which  money  could 
not  buy  if  they  could  be  sold.  When  I  was  about  five 
or  six  years  old  she  took  me  to  a  Methodist  Sunday 
School,  and  while  she  left  me  in  the  infant  class,  she 
attended  the  Class  Meeting;  after  classes  were  over, 
we  went  upstairs,  to  the  church  service.  This  is  the 
life  I  lived  and  was  brought  up  to  until  I  was  about 
sixteen  years  old.  Mother  had  died  one  year  previous, 
and  father  just  three  years  later.  After  mother's 
death  I  had  my  own  way  the  greater  part  of  the  time, 
stayed  out  late  at  night,  went  to  theatres,  balls,  pic- 
nics, and  places  of  such  kind.  I  was  not  content  at 
school,  so  I  secured  employment  with  a  banking  house 
in  this  city.  I  remained  eight  years  with  this  house, 
during  which  time  I  had  the  brightest  prospects  of 
making  a  name  for  myself  in  a  business  way,  yet 
'  What  shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he  gain  the  whole  world 


269 

and  lose  his  own  soul  ? '  But  I  neglected  the  early 
training  and  went  into  sin  by  seeking  the  pleasures 
of  this  world. 

"  When  about  seventeen  years  of  age  I  found  my- 
self on  the  race  track,  and  I  became  infatuated  with 
the  game,  so  much  so  that  I  robbed  my  employers, 
pawned  any  and  everything  obtainable  to  get  money 
to  bet.  At  first  I  made  money — for  three  or  four 
years — and  never  thought  I  would  be  in  want  of  a 
dollar,  or  a  friend,  but  alas,  alas,  the  things  of  this 
world  are  fleeting.  During  these  few  years  I  had 
learned  to  drink,  for  then  I  looked  upon  it  as  a  manly 
act  to  be  able  to  drink  whiskey.  The  habit  grew  and 
grew,  from  just  liking  it  to  an  appetite  which  I  could 
not  control. 

"  Once  I  stood  at  the  bar  drinking  in  a  fashionable 
cafe,  which  I  was  accustomed  to  frequent,  when  the 
bartender,  noticing  that  whiskey  had  a  hold  on  me, 
said,  '  Young  man,  if  you  stick  to  that  stuff  you  will 
wear  old  clothes.'  I  laughed  at  him,  thinking  he  was 
joking,  and  again  he  said,  '  If  you  do,  you  will  re- 
member my  words.'  I  shall  never  forget  them,  and 
wish  I  could  burn  them  in  letters  of  fire  before  every 
young  man  who  is  just  beginning  to  drink  intoxicat- 
ing liquors,  not  because  it  brings  old  clothes,  but 
because  of  hell,  and  lost  condition  of  soul  it  brings. 

"  From  that  time  on  I  gradually  went  down,  and 
it  took  me  about  ten  years  to  get  to  the  bottom.  This 
incident  in  my  life  was  brought  home  to  me  shortly 
after  my  conversion  in  the  Water  Street  Mission,  by 
the  words  which  are  painted  on  the  wall,  '  The  drunk- 
ard shall  come  to  poverty.' 

"  It  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  describe  what 


270     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

I  went  through  those  ten  years,  each  year  growing 
weaker  and  weaker,  as  to  being  able  to  recover  myself. 
At  first  given  good  advice  by  friends  and  employers, 
I  was  helped  in  every  way  possible  until  they  finally 
had  to  drop  me  with  the  words,  '  He  is  no  good,  he  is 
no  good.'  I  secured  position  after  position,  only  to 
lose  them  by  the  appetite  which  mastered  me.  My 
home  was  broken  upon  two  different  occasions,  and 
my  relatives  left  me  to  the  doom  which  was  before 
me, — at  last  a  wanderer,  and  an  outcast. 

"  I  often  asked  myself  the  question  why  I  was  born 
to  live  such  a  hell  on  earth  and  often  wished  I  was 
dead.  I  would  seek  the  most  secluded  spots  I  could 
find,  such  as  docks,  parks,  and  the  outskirts  of  the 
city,  so  that  I  would  not  be  seen  by  those  who 
knew  me. 

"  In  the  daytime  I  was  longing  and  wishing  for 
the  night  to  come,  and  in  the  night  wishing  for  the 
day  to  come,  hungry,  tired,  and  hopeless  of  ever  get- 
ting away  from  such  a  life.  Oh !  the  life  of  a  drunk- 
ard, so  filled  with  remorse  and  anguish,  which  cannot 
be  described. 

"  At  this  period  of  my  life  I  often  wandered  into 
missions  '  to  pass  the  time  away/  in  sleeping  or  get- 
ting warm, — often  impressed  with  the  service,  but  only 
to  go  out  again  to  wander,  and  think  '  what  is  going 
to  become  of  me?'  Why  I  did  not  embrace  Chris- 
tianity at  this  time  I  cannot  say,  unless  it  was  that  I 
was  not  ready  to  give  up  a  worldly  life,  with  all  its 
misery.  I  wanted  to  be  sober,  but  thought  there  was 
no  happiness  in  a  Christian  life.  What  a  mistake! 
The  only  true  happiness  and  peace  is  found  in  living 
a  Christian  life.  I  am  glad  I  am  a  Christian  to-day ; 


HIS    MONUMENT  271 

I  am  glad  I  am  alive,  for  life  with  Christ  is  heaven 
upon  earth.  Towards  the  end  of  this  downward 
career  I  would  do  and  have  done  almost  anything  to 
obtain  money  to  satisfy  my  desires  and  appetites,  and 
have  taken  some  desperate  chances,  so  much  so  that 
if  I  had  been  caught  by  the  authorities,  I  could  have 
been  sent  away  for  a  long  term  of  years,  and  yet  I  was 
never  charged  by  the  law  with  any  greater  crime  than 
drunkenness,  for  which  I  am  grateful. 

"  On  Saturday,  January  2.2,  1898,  I  was  discharged 
from  a  position  for  drunkenness  and  dishonesty,  a 
politer  way  of  putting  it  than  calling  one's  self  a  thief. 
With  my  salary  in  my  pocket  I  went  to  a  saloon  and 
there  remained  playing  cards  until  the  time  of  closing, 
which  was  midnight.  More  or  less  under  the  influence 
of  whiskey,  four  of  us  adjourned  to  one  of  the  players' 
rooms,  where  we  continued  to  play  until  six  o'clock 
Sunday  morning.  Then  I  arose  from  the  table,  stone 
broke,  and  commenced  to  drown  my  sorrow  in  more 
whiskey,  and  succeeded  in  that,  for  I  slept  off  two 
drunks  that  day.  My  last  recollection  of  the  afternoon 
was  at  two  o'clock.  When  I  awoke  I  was  in  the  Water 
Street  Mission  about  seven  o'clock,  Sunday  evening, 
January  23,  1898. 

"  Where  I  was  or  had  been  since  the  early  after- 
noon I  cannot  tell,  nor  can  I  tell  how  or  when  I  got 
into  the  Mission  because  of  the  utter  intoxication  I 
was  in.  Here  ends  the  first  chapter  of  my  life  as  a 
drunkard,  or  rebel. 

"  But  I  will  never  be  able  to  write  by  pen  or  convey 
in  speech  the  second  chapter  as  a  Christian,  or  regular, 
until  I  see  Jesus  and  thank  Him  for  redemption  and 
for  bringing  Samuel  Hopkins  Hadley  into  my  life. 


S.    H.    HADLEY   OF   WATER    STREET 

I  was  asleep  as  dear  Brother  Hadley  came  into  the 
Mission.  He  saw  me  and  wakened  me,  saying,  '  Is 
this  one  of  the  regulars  ? '  No,  I  was  not ;  as  my  life 
story  indicates,  I  was  a  rebel,  and  had  lived  in  open 
rebellion  against  God's  Kingdom  all  my  life  until  that 
night.  Brother  Hadley  has  often  said,  '  Some  men 
will  sleep  themselves  into  hell,'  and  that  was  just 
what  I  was  doing  after  my  debauch. 

"  The  meeting  was  now  beginning  with  song  and 
prayer.  One  song  I  remember: 

"  '  I  stood  outside  the  gate,  a  poor  wayfaring  child, 
Within  my  heart  there  beat  a  tempest  loud  and  wild ; 
A  fear  oppressed  my  soul,  that  I  might  be  too  late 
And,  oh,  I  trembled  sore,  and  prayed  outside  the  gate.' 

"  Then  I  heard  testimonies  of  redeemed  drunkards, 
and  it  seemed  to  sober  me  somewhat,  for  they  were 
telling  over  and  over  my  life  story,  and  they  said  that 
Jesus  had  saved  them  out  of  it  and  they  were  now 
living  Christian  lives,  and  they  were  happy  and  pros- 
perous, and  furthermore  they  said  this  Jesus  would 
do  the  same  for  anyone  that  came  to  Him.  I  believed 
these  men. 

"  Mr.  Hadley  at  the  close  of  the  meeting  said,  '  It 
was  on  Sunday  evening  that  I  was  born  again.'  He 
wanted  to  know  if  there  was  anyone  in  the  room  that 
wished  to  be  born  again,  and  live  a  Christian  life  and 
start  for  heaven,  and  then  said  if  there  was  anyone,  to 
stand  on  his  feet. 

"  I  accepted  the  invitation  by  springing  to  my  feet, 
so  eager  was  I  that  night  to  die  to  the  old  life.  He 
then  invited  those  who  stood  to  come  forward  and 


HIS    MONUMENT  273 

kneel  down  and  pray.  Eleven  men  responded.  I  was 
somewhat  dazed  from  the  effects  of  my  debauch,  and 
really  did  not  know  what  to  say  or  pray  for,  but 
Brother  Hadley  said,  '  Pray  "  God  be  merciful  to  me 
a  sinner,  for  Jesus'  sake."  :  I  did  so,  and  I  am  glad 
to  say  that  God  heard  the  prayer  and  answered  it  by 
redeeming  me  from  a  sinful  life.  After  we  prayed 
Mr.  Hadley  asked  us  to  make  a  statement.  We  all 
said  something.  I  told  him  I  had  prayed  God  be 
merciful  to  me  a  sinner  and  that  I  believed  He  had 
done  so,  and  I  have  been  believing  it  ever  since. 
Brother  Hadley  then  took  us  by  the  hand  and  wished 
us  God-speed  in  the  new  life. 

"  As  I  was  leaving  the  Mission  that  night  very 
much  sobered  up,  I  was  met  at  the  door  by  a  lady. 
She  greeted  me  with  a  smile  and  a  warm  shake  of  the 
hand.  I  afterwards  knew  her  as  Mrs.  Bentley,  the 
missionary.  She  asked  me  to  come  back  the  follow- 
ing evening,  but  to  trust  God  for  the  future.  How 
vague  those  words  sounded  then,  but  now  I  under- 
stand them,  and  no  good  thing  has  He  withheld 
from  me. 

:'  This  yielding  myself  to  God  was  as  wonderful  a 
conversion  as  St.  Paul's,  for  in  my  mad  career  pre- 
vious to  finding  myself  in  the  Mission  I  was  not 
thinking  of  God,  of  Jesus,  Church,  or  Mission.  My 
one  thought  for  days  had  been  to  get  away  from  rela- 
tives, friends  and  self  by  going  across  the  continent 
to  Frisco,  Cal.,  but  God  works  in  a  mysterious  way 
His  wonders  to  perform,  and  while  I  thought  I  was 
very  far  from  Him,  He  was  very  near  to  me,  and  He 
brought  me  to  Himself.  Oh,  what  a  change  in  my 
life  from  that  night !  Words  are  inadequate  to  ex- 


274     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

press  the  joy,  peace,  and  happiness  I  have  experienced 
in  the  knowledge  of  sins  forgiven  and  Sonship  of 
God. 

"  The  Christian  life  I  had  to  live  all  over  again  just 
like  a  little  child.  I  did  not  even  remember  the  Lord's 
Prayer,  and  the  Bible  was  a  sealed  book  to  me,  just 
like  so  much  Greek. 

"  The  Monday  morning  after  my  conversion  when 
I  awoke,  I  did  not  want  a  drink,  something  unusual 
in  my  life,  especially  after  a  debauch.  I  then  recalled 
the  happenings  in  the  Mission  the  night  before,  and 
began  to  believe  that  I  was  saved,  for  I  did  not  want 
a  drink  that  day,  nor  for  months  and  months  after. 
Since  that  time  a  work  of  grace  has  been  going  steadily 
on  in  my  life  until  the  old  life  has  completely  passed 
away,  and  new  desires  and  ambitions  are  now  filling 
its  place.  Surely,  '  if  any  man  be  in  Christ,  he  is  a 
new  creature.'  During  the  first  and  second  year  of  the 
new  life  I  was  weak  in  the  faith,  and  on  several  occa- 
sions temptation  overcame  me  and  I  fell  back  in  the 
old  ways  for  a  few  days,  but  only  to  return  penitent 
and  with  a  stronger  determination  to  live  a  Christian 
life  to  the  end.  And  the  dear  Lord  by  His  Holy 
Spirit  has  led  me  along  thus  far  to  know  that  '  Christ 
is  all  in  all.' 

"  About  eight  weeks  after  my  conversion  I  secured 
employment,  the  same  which  I  hold  at  present,  by  the 
grace  of  God.  He  gave  my  employer  confidence  in 
me  and  since  then  I  have  held  a  responsible  position. 
Not  long  after  that  friends,  relatives  and  home  were 
again  what  they  used  to  be  in  bygone  years.  I  united 
with  a  church,  the  same  church  where  I  attended  Sun- 
day School.  I  became  an  active  member,  then  a  stew- 


HIS    MONUMENT  275 

ard  and  a  little  later  those  good  people  saw  fit  to  make 
me  their  class  leader.  When  they  are  going  to  stop 
bestowing  their  love  upon  me  I  do  not  know,  but  one 
thing  I  do  know,  the  happiest  days  of  my  boyhood 
were  spent  in  this  church,  and  thank  God  I  am  now 
enjoying  them  over  again,  with  the  blessed  conscious- 
ness that  it  is  all  real,  very  real.  '  The  grace  of  God 
it  is  so  sweet.'  Brother  Hadley  made  me  a  co-worker 
with  him  at  the  Mission,  appointing  me  a  leader  with 
the  blessed  privilege  of  inviting  sinful  men  to  Jesus. 
What  joy  it  gives  one  to  see  His  double  returning 
home  again  to  the  Father  to  wander  no  more ;  to  see 
him  changed  and  in  his  right  mind,  after  receiving 
power  over  the  old  life,  and  receiving  the  good  things 
which  God  has  in  store  for  them  that  trust  Him. 

"  During  these  years  I  have  learned  much  from 
Brother  Hadley.  As  he  lived  Christlike  he  has  been 
an  example,  a  teacher  and  a  guide  to  me,  always  of- 
fering words  of  encouragement  and  comfort.  I  can 
now  say  he  was  more  interested  in  my  welfare  than  I 
have  been  myself. 

"  Can  I  ever  thank  God  enough  for  Samuel  Hop- 
kins Hadley,  and  for  his  disturbing  me  in  my  drunken 
sleep,  which  by  so  doing  has  brought  me  new  life, 
salvation  and  heaven  right  here? 

"  Hallelujah !  for  freedom  to-day  from  whiskey, 
tobacco,  and  everything  that  is  wicked  and  bad." 


XXI 
NEWSPAPER    COMMENT 

NOT  a  very  great  while  ago  one  of  the  most 
distinguished  politicians  died.  He  was 
formerly  a  member  of  the  President's  Cab- 
inet and  had  rendered  invaluable  service  to  his  country 
along  political  lines.  He  was  truly  a  great  man  and 
yet  the  newspaper  comments  concerning  his  passing 
away  from  his  political  career  were  not  for  a  moment 
to  be  compared  with  the  references  in  the  public  press, 
both  secular  and  religious,  to  the  life  and  work  of  S. 
H.  Hadley,  whose  mission  in  life  was  to  help  uplift 
others  from  whom  the  world,  and  alas,  too  often,  even 
the  Church  had  turned  away. 

The   editor   of  the    Westminster,   Dr.   Richard    S. 
Holmes,  has  placed  in  verse  his  tribute  to  Mr.  Hadley : 

A  broken  reed  on  which  no  life  could  lean : 

A  bit  of  floatsam  tossed  on  hostile  shore: 

A  human  wreck  was  he,  and  nothing  more. 
Sometimes  the  thought  of  what  he  might  have  been 
Fell  on  his  soul.    As  snowflakes  on  the  green 

In   late   spring  days,   when  winter's   rule   is   o'er 

Whiten  a  moment,  then  pass  open  door 
Of  waking  earth  into  the  vast  unseen : — 
So  fell  the  thought  on  this  poor  ruined  soul 

But  left  no  impress  for  a  future  good. 
And  then  the   change, — "  Christ  Jesus  makes  thee  whole." 

Grew   straight   the   broken    reed :    the   wave-tossed   wood 
Became  a  way  mark:  and  the  wreck  a  guide 
To  souls  adrift  out  on  Sin's  whelming  tide. 

276 


NEWSPAPER    COMMENT  277 

Under  the  heading,  "  A  Dramatic  Religious  Ca- 
reer," the  Literary  Digest  says: 

"  There  is  a  certain  dramatic  appeal  to  the  imagi- 
nation in  the  story  of  a  direct  descendant  of  the 
relentless  theologian,  Jonathan  Edwards,  who  grad- 
ually sinks  from  respectability  and  well  being  until 
he  is  a  hopeless  drunkard,  a  gambler,  a  thief,  and 
ultimately  that  forlorn  wreck  known  as  a  '  bum/ 
and  is  then  lifted  from  the  depths  to  a  life  of 
such  efficiency  that  at  his  death  it  is  seriously  af- 
firmed from  one  pulpit  that  he  '  was  the  greatest 
American  of  his  time — not  measured  in  money  or  in 
fame,  but  in  love  and  in  likeness  to  Christ.'  Such  is 
the  story  of  the  Rev.  Samuel  Hopkins  Hadley,  for 
more  than  twenty  years  at  the  head  of  the  old  Jerry 
McAuley  Mission  in  Water  Street,  New  York." 

Dr.  Arthur  T.  Pierson,  in  the  Missionary  Review 
of  the  World,  says : 

"  I  have  never  known  the  equal  of  Samuel  Hopkins 
Hadley  as  a  winner  of  souls.  In  his  death  the  Chris- 
tian Church  has  experienced  the  greatest  loss  in  this 
respect  in  half  a  century." 

Dr.  James  M.  Buckley,  in  the  Christian  Advocate, 
New  York,  says : 

"  Mr.  Hadley's  inexhaustible  patience  appears  in 
what  he  was  wont  to  say  of  his  methods,  '  If  a  man 
cheats  me  nineteen  times,  I  shame  him  out  by  trusting 
him  the  twentieth.'  As  a  man  he  was  of  more  than 
ordinary  ability — his  imagination  was  vivid,  vocabu- 
lary large  and  of  good  quality,  his  susceptibility  and 
suggestibility  great,  his  wit  unusually  bright,  his  sym- 


278     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

pathies  easily  excited,  and  he  was  master  of  the  art 
of  good-fellowship.  Down  to  the  depths  he  sank ;  up 
from  the  depths  he  rose ;  regenerated  and  moved  upon 
by  the  Spirit  he  '  felt  the  infirmities  '  of  those  he  would 
help.  More  than  that,  he  loved  them." 

The  following  are  grouped  from  the  Literary 
Digest: 

" '  He  has  been  a  power  for  good  beyond  the  pos- 
sibilities of  just  estimation,'  says  the  New  York  Ex- 
aminer; and  we  are  told  elsewhere  that  he  so  quick- 
ened the  work  of  Jerry  McAuley's  Mission  that 
leaders  of  religious  thought  and  sociological  students 
from  all  parts  of  the  world  came  to  the  humble  head- 
quarters at  Water  Street  to  learn  of  him.  '  The  work 
of  this  unique  mission/  states  the  Episcopal  Recorder, 
f  was  carried  on  by  converts,  who  were  once  thieves, 
tramps,  sandbaggers,  or  drunkards,  and  they  have 
proved  themselves  workmen  that  need  not  to  be 
ashamed.'  Mr.  Hadley  used  to  say  that  more  thieves 
and  drunkards  had  crossed  the  threshold  of  the  Mis- 
sion than  that  of  any  other  building  in  the  city,  except 
the  Tombs  Prison." 

The  Philadelphia  Press  says: 

"  The  good  man  never  dies. 

"  So  '  Hopp '  Hadley  is  dead,  and  one  of  the  coun- 
try's greatest  philanthropists  has  fallen. 

"  Yes,  '  great  philanthropist ' ;  it  is  not  the  man  who 
gives  millions  that  he  will  never  miss,  to  keep  his  own 
name  blazoned  forth  in  perpetuity,  upon  some  public 
building,  that  is  the  true  philanthropist.  Philanthropy, 
as  everyone  who  knows  words  understands  at  a 


NEWSPAPER    COMMENT  279 

glance,  does  not  mean  money-giving;  it  means 
humanity-loving.  A  man  may  be  a  lover  of  his  kind 
and  prove  it,  yet  not  know  where  his  own  next  month's 
rent  is  coming  from. 

"  It  is  possible  to  be  a  penniless  philanthropist ;  and 
it  is  also  possible  to  be  a  million-dollar-giving  enemy 
of  the  race. 

"  '  Hopp '  Hadley,  as  a  wide  diversity  of  friends 
affectionately  styled  him,  because  of  his  limp;  Sam- 
uel H.  Hadley,  as  the  records  run,  loved  his  fel- 
low men  with  an  intensity,  a  quenchless  hopefulness; 
and  a  tireless  helpfulness  marked  him  as  one  of  the 
saviours  of  his  time.  At  close  grips  and  at  personal 
cost  he  served  mankind.  No  dilettante  aesthetic  he, 
toying  with  the  problem  of  poverty  and  wretchedness  as 
a  drawing-room  diversion.  He  went  straight  down  to 
the  mire  where  the  outcasts  lie,  and  in  spite  of  dirt 
and  drink  and  ingratitude,  and  all  manner  of  unloveli- 
ness,  he  persisted  in  lifting  men  up. 

"  Most  social  reformers  would  go  out  of  business 
in  a  week  if  they  had  to  touch  with  their  own  white 
hands  the  actual  men  and  women  who  make  up  the 
problems  which  they  study. 

"  It  was  a  great  gratitude  and  a  great  love  which 
made  Hadley  an  '  apostle  to  the  drunkard.'  Many 
Philadelphia  audiences  have  heard  him  tell  the  story 
of  his  life,  which  was  also  the  story  of  the  Water 
Street  Mission,  New  York,  for  twenty  years  past.  In 
his  own  picturesque  speech,  which  to  the  end  retained 
the  flavour  of  the  Bowery  twenty-four  years  ago,  he 
was  '  down  and  out ' — a  drunkard,  a  forger,  an  out- 
cast, a  '  bum.'  Delirium  tremens  had  all  but  com- 
pleted the  wreck  of  mind  and  body.  Suddenly  he  made 


280     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

a  resolution  while  sitting  in  a  Harlem  dive,  a  home- 
less, penniless  sot,  that  he  would  quit  drink  and  the 
old  life.  Alas,  his  will  power  was  gone,  and  he  had 
made  the  same  determination  many  times  before.  On 
this  occasion  he  had  an  illumination:  He  would  have 
himself  locked  up.  And  he  did.  There  in  a  narrow 
cell  thronged  with  all  the  imps  that  haunt  the  drink- 
crazed,  he  underwent  a  religious  experience  which 
transformed  his  life  almost  beyond  belief.  Every  year 
since  then,  on  the  anniversary  of  his  conversion,  he 
has  gone  back  to  that  station  house,  and  in  the 
same  cell  he  has  had  a  little  prayer  meeting  by  him- 
self. 

"  There  is  no  measuring  the  might  of  a  man  with 
a  tremendous  purpose. 

"  The  ex-crook,  ex-drunkard,  ex-'  bum,'  gave  him- 
self to  the  work  of  lifting  up  the  men  who  are  still 
as  low  as  he  had  been.  On  the  East  Side  of  New  York 
he  found  no  lack  of  material.  The  romance  of  his 
life  lies  in  the  fact  that  hundreds  of  men  in  honourable 
places  to-day,  their  past  all  unsuspected  by  their  pres- 
ent associates,  were  helped  out  of  the  Bowery  gutters 
by  this  indomitable  optimist.  This  means  more  than 
the  commonplace  fact  that  among  the  thousands  of 
poor  wrecks  whom  Hadley  succoured  there  were  men 
from  every  corner  of  America  and  the  whole  world, 
who  once  had  borne  honourable  names ;  for  even  the 
highest  may  fall  to  the  lowest,  '  Facilis  descensus 
Averni.'  But  the  climb  from  a  Harlem  dive  to  the 
heights  of  respectability  and  honour  and  usefulness 
is  a  rugged  and  romantic  way. 

:'  This  man  Hadley  knew  that  it  was  possible  for 
the  lowest  to  be  lifted  up;  his  reason  was  the  best  in 


NEWSPAPER    COMMENT  281 

the  world;  he  had  gone  through  the  experience  him- 
self. So  his  patience  with  the  weak  and  the  will-less, 
the  indifferent,  and  the  mere  pretenders,  was  nothing 
short  of  divine.  I  heard  him  tell  in  the  Garrick 
Theatre  one  day  of  a  '  bum '  to  whom  he  had  given 
shelter,  who  straightway  stole  his  overcoat.  But  that 
didn't  interfere  with  his  welcome  the  next  time  he 
could  be  reached.  Time  after  time  the  poor  drunken 
rogue  played  his  benefactor  false.  But  Hadley  lived 
to  see  that  particular  wretch  become  an  upright,  useful 
man. 

"  There  will  be  no  imposing  mausoleum  to  hold 
Hadley's  body ;  but  thousands  of  men  are  scattered 
over  the  earth,  walking  in  their  integrity,  monuments 
to  his  life. 

"  Illiterate,  yet  the  author  of  a  heart-gripping  book 
that  has  sold  twenty  thousand  copies;  unpolished  in 
speech,  yet  moving  audiences  of  thousands  of  educated 
persons ;  unequipped  with  a  theological  education,  yet 
able  to  preach  with  a  power  which  few  doctors  of 
divinity  ever  attain;  honoured  by  the  great  and  yet 
unspoiled  and  ever  impatient  to  be  back  in  the  Bowery 
with  his  '  bums/  for  whom  he  prayed  with  his  last 
gasp — such  was  this  mighty  philanthropist,  S.  H.  Had- 
ley, superintendent  of  the  Jerry  McAuley  Mission, 
'  down  in  Water  Street,'  New  York.  Few  kings  have 
had  such  a  funeral  cortege  as  he ;  for  the  poor,  the 
outcast,  the  drunken  and  the  criminal  of  a  great  city 
knew  him  as  a  friend  and  helper. 

"  The  greatest  usefulness  is  the  greatest  success : 
'  Hopp  '  Hadley  was  more  successful  than  hundreds 
of  millionaires. 

"  Passersby  wondered  what  it  meant  to  see  a  silent 


282     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

stream  of  400  men  and  women  walk  rapidly  down 
under  Brooklyn  Bridge,  stop  before  a  modest  little 
building  on  Water  Street  and  then  crowd  into  a  little 
room  not  half  big  enough  to  hold  then.  The  reason 
for  this  was  that  nearly  everybody  that  had  met  Samuel 
H.  Hadley  there  in  the  last  nineteen  years  wanted  to 
look  once  on  his  dead  face  and  to  tell  of  his  living  acts. 
There  was  little  time  for  these  oral  testimonies  during 
the  brief  funeral  services.  One  convert,  the  first, 
repeated  his  story,  and  some  of  the  business  men  who 
have  helped  to  make  possible  the  unbroken  usefulness 
of  the  Old  Jerry  McAuley  Mission  told  how  the  sin- 
cerity of  this  man's  life  had  won  their  absolute  con- 
fidence. Many  of  the  onlookers  wept  silently. 

"  Outside,  the  tugs  in  the  East  River  whistled.  A 
band  played  for  an  Italian  funeral  two  blocks  away. 
The  picks  of  the  street  cleaners  in  the  hard  snow 
clacked  against  the  pavement.  Nobody  minded  these 
things.  It  was  all  a  part  of  the  life  Sam  Hadley  be- 
longed to.  Somebody  asked,  after  it  was  all  over  with, 
where  were  the  converts  of  the  mission — those  ragged, 
blear-eyed  hulks. 

" '  Why,  these  are  all  respectable,  clean-looking 
men !  '  exclaimed  the  visitor. 

"  '  They  are — now.  That  is  what  Sam  Hadley  was 
good  for.' " 

The  New  York  Tribune  says : 

"  A  good  man  is  gone  and  a  great  loss  is  suffered 
by  the  world  in  the  death  of  Samuel  Hopkins  Hadley. 
'  When  our  names  are  blotted  out  and  our  place  knows 
us  no  more/  said  Huxley,  '  the  energy  of  each  social 
service  will  remain,  like  the  unending  stream  of  one 


NEWSPAPER    COMMENT  283 

of  nature's  forces.'  There  is  no  incongruity  in  com- 
paring the  energy  of  Hadley's  social  service  with  that 
of  even  some  of  the  greater  of  nature's  forces.  It  is 
said,  probably  without  exaggeration,  that  at  his  meet- 
ings at  the  Water  Street  Mission  in  those  last  twenty 
years  no  fewer  than  seventy-five  thousand  persons 
declared  their  intention  to  lead  better  lives.  There  is 
reason  for  confidence  that  a  majority  of  these  were 
true  to  their  resolutions.  Surely,  to  have  rescued 
thousands  of  lives  from  beggary,  vice  and  crime  and 
to  have  made  them  industrious  and  law-abiding  mem- 
bers of  the  community  is  such  a  service  to  the  state  as 
not  many  other  men  have  performed.  To  have  saved  a 
large  number  of  souls  from  death  is,  from  the  spiritual 
point  of  view,  a  service  of  simply  immeasureable 
greatness. 

"  But  that  was  by  no  means  all.  It  was  directly 
through  his  influence  that  his  brother  became  inter- 
ested in  Christian  beneficence  and  became  the  leader 
of  a  large  mission  and  the  founder  of  some  forty 
others ;  that  the  three  sons  of  that  brother  also  entered 
the  same  field  of  usefulness ;  and  that  many  other  men 
— most  of  them  converts  in  the  Water  Street  Mission 
— became  the  heads  of  Christian  and  benevolent  enter- 
prises. Thus  his  influence  was  through  all  those  years 
not  only  widening  in  its  own  circle,  but  it  was  estab- 
lishing other  centres  from  each  of  which  similarly 
widening  circles  of  good  works  proceeded,  and  each 
of  which  in  turn  created  yet  other  centres,  and  so 
on. 

:t  The  sum  total  of  the  good  thus  done  by  this  one 
devoted  man  is  something  that  cannot  be  computed. 
It  would  be  impossible  to  reckon  how  much  it  has 


284     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

amounted  to  just  to  the  present  time.  But  now  Had- 
ley's  work  has  only  just  begun.  It  '  will  remain,'  like 
the  unending  stream  of  one  of  nature's  forces. 

"  There  are  those  who  lament  the  decline  of  faith  and 
the  decadence  of  the  churches.  What  a  tremendous 
rebuke  to  such  does  the  career  of  a  man  like  Samuel 
Hopkins  Hadley  present!  For  the  main-spring  and 
motive  of  his  life,  its  Alpha  and  Omega,  was  Chris- 
tian faith — '  the  feeling  that  there's  a  God,  He  reigns 
and  rules.'  A  Methodist  in  technical  church  member- 
ship, purely  undenominational  in  his  mission  work, 
he  had  the  same  faith  that  Bunyan,  and  Baxter,  and 
Wesley  had,  and  that  his  own  famous  ancestor,  Jona- 
than Edwards,  had.  He  had  precisely  that  '  old-fash- 
ioned religion  '  that  so  many  of  our  churches  deplore 
the  decline  of  and  fitfully  seek  to  restore.  He  had  it, 
and  the  power  of  it  worked  in  and  through  him  as 
surely,  as  unmistakably,  and  as  effectually  as  ever  it 
did  through  any  of  the  canonised  spiritual  leaders  of 
the  past.  And  he  himself  would  have  been  the  most 
earnest  in  denying,  and  denying  truthfully,  that  he 
was  any  rare  or  unique  exception  to  the  rule.  What 
he  did  others  could  do.  The  church  or  the  minister 
lamenting  the  unfruitfulness  of  its  or  his  work  should 
regard  this  example,  and  learn  from  it  that  failure 
to  effect  results  comparable  with  Hadley 's  simply 
argues  failure  to  cherish  the  faith  that  he  cherished 
and  practised,  to  make  the  consecration  of  effort  that 
he  made,  and  spend  the  love  that  he  spent." 

The  New  York  Herald  devoted  an  entire  page  of 
the  Sunday  edition  of  the  paper  in  which  a  tribute  was 
paid  to  Samuel  Hopkins  Hadley,  who  was  spoken  of 


NEWSPAPER    COMMENT  285 

as  "  The  Foe  of  Iniquity."  The  reporter  wrote  as 
follows : 

"  If  there  is  joy  in  heaven  over  one  sinner  that  re- 
penteth  and  turns  but  himself  from  evil  ways,  how 
much  must  there  be  when  that  one  not  alone  sets  forth 
upon  the  straight  and  narrow  path,  but  takes  with  him 
legions  of  others,  and  that  not  by  Scriptural  exhorta- 
tion or  empty  homilies  on  the  abstract  advantages  of 
virtue,  but  by  practical  help,  by  giving  food  to  the 
hungry  and  shelter  to  the  homeless,  whatever  the  de- 
gree of  their  iniquity,  by  sacrifices,  abnegation  and 
devotion. 

"  Some  there  were,  perhaps,  who  knew  that  he  was 
superintendent  of  the  old  Jerry  McAuley  Mission  at 
No.  316  Water  Street,  but  how  many  of  these  could 
tell  you  even  now  exactly  what  that  Mission  is  and 
what  was  accomplished  under  his  care  and  direction. 
Fewer  still,  only  a  small  band  of  those  who  had 
watched  and  profited  by  his  career,  could  tell  you  that 
he  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable  men  of  his  time, 
because  he  possessed  not  only  those  great  qualities  of 
soul  which  marked  his  illustrious  progenitor  Jonathan 
Edwards,  but  manifested  them  by  deeds  which,  how- 
ever mean  or  sordid  they  may  seem  in  the  recital,  are 
glorified  and  illumined  in  their  meaning  and  their  con- 
summation. 

"  Not  only  himself,  but  fully  seventy-five  thousand 
others,  Hadley  raised  from  the  depths  of  sin  and  deg- 
radation and  set  upon  the  ways  of  decency.  But  to 
be  understood  the  story  must  be  told  from  his  own  be- 
ginning. Born  in  Malta  township,  Morgan  county, 
Ohio,  in  1842,  he  was  not  only  a  direct  descendant  of 
the  great  Calvinistic  preacher  of  Enfield,  but  his 


286     S.    H.    HADLEY    OF    WATER    STREET 

mother  was  the  daughter  of  a  clergyman  and  his 
mother's  brother  also  was  a  clergyman.  His  early 
boyhood  and  young  manhood  were  spent  in  a  log  house 
built  by  his  father,  and  his  formal  education  was  ac- 
quired in  about  four  months  in  a  log  schoolhouse. 

"  In  his  later  days,  speaking  of  his  early  home,  he 
used  to  say :  '  It  was  the  purest  spot  on  earth.  Never 
did  I  hear  an  evil  word  spoken  there,  and  no  whiskey 
or  tobacco  ever  passed  the  sacred  threshold  of  our 
log  cabin  home.  As  early  as  I  can  remember  I  had 
promised  my  mother  that  I  would  never  drink,  and  I 
kept  this  promise  until  my  eighteenth  year.' 

"  He  drifted  to  New  York  in  1870  and  obtained  a 
position  with  a  salary  of  $300  a  month  and  a  liberal 
allowance  for  expenses,  but  the  failure  of  the  es- 
tablishment he  was  working  for  threw  him  out,  and 
never  again  was  he  able  to  command  a  good  salary. 
Downward  he  kept  slipping,  until  he  learned  to 
know  the  horrors  of  what  he  called  a  '  drunkard's 
hell.' 

"  '  Talk  about  hell/  he  said,  long  afterward,  '  I  tell 
you  I  know  what  it  is,  and  any  man  who  has  been 
along  that  line  knows  that  I  tell  the  truth.  The  Bible 
describes  hell  as  the  place  where  the  rich  man,  being 
in  torment,  lifted  up  his  eyes  and  saw  Abraham  afar 
off  and  Lazarus  in  his  bosom.  Then  the  rich  man 
begged  for  one  drop  of  water  to  cool  his  parched 
tongue,  for  he  was  tormented  in  this  flame. 

"  '  My  idea  of  hell,  from  the  experience  I  have  had, 
is  that  it  is  a  place  shut  off,  where  all  hope  is  lost, 
where  purity  and  love  are  strangers,  and  anguish  of 
the  most  poignant  kind  has  taken  possession  of  the 
soul.  That  was  what  I  felt  the  night  I  fled  from  a 


NEWSPAPER    COMMENT  287 

saloon — fled  for  my  life  to  a  police  station  and  had 
myself  locked  up. 

1 '  Love  is  heaven  and  when  love  has  fled  from  the 
human  heart  then  hell  begins.  I  had  lost  my  friends. 
I  could  not  get  five  cents  without  stealing  it.  Then 
came  delirium  tremens,  creeping  stealthily  upon  me. 
Demons  of  the  mist  in  hideous  forms  danced  before 
my  horrified  gaze.  I  closed  my  eyes,  but  I  could  not 
shut  them  out.  They  danced  closer  and  closer,  until 
their  scorching  breath  burned  me.  Serpents  twined 
about  my  throat,  choking  me,  and  on  all  sides  I  heard 
sneering,  mocking  voices  plotting  my  ruin.  Then  a 
lower  voice  came,  whispering  with  shrill  distinctness : 
"Kill  yourself!  You  have  played  for  this  for  years. 
You  are  mine  now.  Kill  yourself !  " 

"  How  that  night  passed,  he  said,  he  never  could  tell, 
but  in  the  morning  he  went  to  the  home  of  his  brother, 
Colonel  H.  H.  Hadley,  who  afterwards  founded  the 
Church  Army  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church. 
On  the  following  Sunday  evening  he  went  to  the  Jerry 
McAuley  Cremorne  Mission,  in  West  Thirty-second 
Street,  and  put  himself  in  the  hands  of  McAuley,  who 
had  been  a  river  thief.  He  asked  Jerry  to  pray  for 
him,  but  the  reply  was :  '  All  the  prayers  in  the  world 
won't  save  you  unless  you  pray  for  yourself.' 

"  Later,  in  his  brother's  home,  he  felt  that  the  help 
which  he  had  craved  had  been  given  and  he  believed 
that  he  had  been  converted.  From  that  time  he  at- 
tended the  services  with  such  regularity  that  he  was 
virtually  an  inmate  of  the  place,  and,  finally,  four 
years  later,  in  1886,  the  trustees  of  the  Mission  asked 
him  to  become  its  superintendent.  He  did  so,  and 
remained  there  the  rest  of  his  life,  with  no  other 


288     S.   H.    HADLEY   OF   WATER    STREET 

devotion,  as  he  expressed  it,  than  to  be  '  the  friend 
of  the  down  and  outs.' 

" '  More  thieves  and  drunkards,'  he  used  to  say, 
'  have  crossed  the  threshold  of  the  Mission  than  any 
other  spot  in  the  city  except  the  Tombs  prison.  Water 
Street  is  a  place  where  drunken  men  are  more  welcome 
than  the  sober,  the  thief  more  welcome  than  the  honest 
man,  the  fallen  woman  more  welcome  than  the  virtu- 
ous one.  If  a  man  comes  to  our  Mission  without 
shoes  we  give  him  a  pair.  That  is  the  policy  of  our 
Mission. 

"  Those  were  the  principles  upon  which  this  remark- 
able man  conducted  the  old  Mission  down  in  the 
slums  under  Brooklyn  Bridge.  The  entire  work  of 
the  place  was  carried  on  by  the  converts,  men  who  had 
once  been  highway  robbers,  tramps,  and  drunkards. 
Absolutely  undenominational,  Jew  and  Gentile,  Cath- 
olic as  well  as  Protestant,  were  welcome  to  its  bene- 
fits. There  is  love  enough  for  all,  was  Hadley's 
doctrine,  and  if  a  man  who  is  '  down  and  out,'  only 
shows  a  true  desire  to  be  '  up  and  in,'  the  workers 
are  well  rewarded,  and  he  may  choose  for  himself 
the  Church  agency  which  he  thinks  will  be  most  satis- 
fying and  supporting  to  his  new  desires. 

"  In  the  years  of  service  in  Water  Street  not  less 
than  seventy-five  thousand  persons  have  announced 
their  intention  to  live  better  lives.  Not  all  of  these 
have  stood  firm  in  the  new  faith,  of  course,  but  it  is 
safe  to  say  that  the  percentage  has  been  as  large  as,  if 
not  larger  than,  would  be  the  case  following  an 
ordinary  revival.  Men  of  all  nations  and  of  all  pro- 
fessions and  trades  have  begun  there  life  anew.  One 
of  the  wealthiest  citizens  of  Australia,  who  is  at  the 


NEWSPAPER    COMMENT  289 

head  of  a  great  system  of  rescue  work  in  Australia 
and  New  Zealand,  calls  the  Water  Street  Mission  his 
'  mother  church.'  Dr.  John  H.  Kellogg,  head  of  the 
Chicago  Lifeboat  Mission  and  other  rescue  agencies, 
refers  to  it  as  '  my  inspiration/  and  only  recently  the 
vice-president  of  one  of  the  great  railroads  in  the 
South,  recalled  that  there  was  a  time  when  he  had 
been  one  of  Hadley's  '  bums.'  " 


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